


Last Homely Hole

by ClassicalTorture



Series: The Extended Baggins Family [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Hobbits, Cannibalism, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Fell Winter, Hobbit Culture & Customs, M/M, Other, Young Bilbo Baggins, Young Thorin Oakenshield, nekkid dwarfs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicalTorture/pseuds/ClassicalTorture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin wakes up in an unfamiliar room, feverish and in the care of a curious and quite gorgeous being. Last thing he remembers is tumbling down the hill in Hobbiton. Bilbo just wants to know who exactly did he have to lug to his house through the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New story, and unfortunately I still don’t own Hobbit or LotR, as that all goes to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Thorin was tired. He had been walking all day, heaving a pack behind his shoulders, and while usually that would not bother him, today was different. He had been feeling feverish. For the last few hours his fingers were cold, and his ears felt as though they were stuffed with drums. The blasted road didn’t seem to have an end, even though he was assured at the tavern that the village was not far off. Once more the dwarf thought on his situation, and the circumstances that had forced him into finding labor where he went. Damn that dragon, and damn those elves, who abandoned them at their greatest hour of need!

  
The dwarf was so lost in thought that he took no notice of the gathering clouds, covering the sky in their blanket. What he did pay attention to though was the fat droplets of rain hitting his face, and growing into a steadily increasing downpour, obscuring his vision and making further travel even more unadvisable. Try as he might, there was not a lot of speed he could put out for his pace, as he still tried to stay on the path. Unfortunately it seemed luck was not at his side that day, as all of a sudden ground gave way to a muddy slope and Thorin slipped in the runny surface and went tumbling down the hill. The last thing he saw before pain exploded in his head, were the flashes of light in the distance and the heavy smell of earth, as he sunk into unconsciousness.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Bilbo struggled to see through the rain, as he trudged through the mud, coming closer and closer to Bag End. Oh why did he have to pick today to go and see the traveling market at the far fields! He knew it was going to rain, the signs have been there all morning, and yet his Took side have gone right ahead and reared its head, and made him travel out of his hobbit hole, and into the downpour. As he tried desperately to keep his purchases from getting too water logged and himself from drowning on land, Bilbo saw a lumpy shape lying by the hill, where he knew for sure there was nothing in the morning, seeing as he went right by this spot to go to the market. As he approached, the hobbit’s breath caught in his throat, and his bag of books went tumbling down, as saw what was unmistakably a person half buried in the watery dirt. Rushing towards him Bilbo desperately hoped that the stranger was alright and not truly buried under all the masses. Approaching fast and sinking down to his knees by the other’s head, Bilbo saw that he was facing upwards, and after carefully leaning in and being very still for a few moments, confirmed that he was breathing as well. Letting out a sigh of relief the hobbit tries to assess the situation best he could.

  
He could not leave the poor man there, and he most certainly did not want his conscious to scream at him later for letting him die in a ditch, so Bilbo decided that the stranger was coming home with him. And by the looks of it, it would be on his hobbit back, though Bilbo to himself as he tried to heave the other upwards. It proved to be unsuccessful as the man turned out to be extremely heavy, despite his stoutness, and Bilbo managed to spot a bag of leather lying nearby.

  
Huffing and struggling, the hobbit managed to sit the other man upright, and reached towards the bag, pulling it closer to them. Lifting it slightly he was delighted at the semi-lightness of it, as that meant that he would not have to be making a return trip to pick up the man’s luggage, rather he could bring them both in at the same time.

  
Now while Bilbo was pretty average for a hobbit, he did possess some strength, and after securing the light pack he went down on his knees, bend his head and awkwardly rolled the heavy stranger onto his shoulders. Standing wobbly, and tittering at the weight, Bilbo took a deep breath, and trudged on towards his house. He had a man to warm up, and heal, and he was better to be quick about it, if the heat running off of the other was any indication. The hobbit didn’t want all his effort to go to waste by losing his mysterious stranger to sickness.

  
Forgotten about, the parcel of books and trinkets, purchased earlier at the market, laid on the ground, soaking in mud and water, slowly being left out of sight from a wobbling small figure with a big shape thrown over its shoulders that was staggering towards the village of Bag End and the cozy hobbit hole of one Bilbo Baggins.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with art! http://driaridykenjo.deviantart.com/#/d5sqd8b

Bilbo’s breath came out in a wheeze as he tried desperately to keep his balance about him, and not go tumbling head first into the mud. The additional weight of the pack and the man were not helping him in his endeavor, but he marched on, determined to get to the warmth and safety of his hole as soon as possible. He adjusted his grip on the person’s legs and arms that were swung over his shoulders and hoped that the pack would stop hitting his by now tender back side. Really, it was quite like getting a spanking while carrying a bag of potatoes! Quite unpleasant. Huffing once more Bilbo steeled himself and continued his walk up the hill, his cozy round door already in sight.

Leaning against the frame and shoving his hand in his pocket, Bilbo fished out the key, kicked open the door, cringing at the muddy footprint left on the otherwise pristine wood, and shifting his load to grip it better trudged inside, using the bag to bump the entrance closed. Not bothering with even wiping his feet, the hobbit slowly walked to his best guest bedroom, situated right next to his own, on the left of the long hallway that made up the first seen interior. The person would need sunlight to recover better after all. Repeating the procedure of the door opening ceremony once more, Bilbo went to the couch, and as gently as he could, dropped his burden on it.

Making a face at the state of the other man the Halfling dropped his bag next to him and went out of the room to get towels and warm water. Quickly stopping by his own room, and grabbing the medicine balms and wrappings that were there in a small chest used for any healing purposes he continued on towards the kitchen. Bilbo placed the biggest kettle he had on the stove, grabbed a few towels from the nearest cupboard. Waiting a few minutes, he grabbed a big basin; put the kettle in there, towels on his shoulder and medicine bag hanging off the crook of his arm, and departed towards the guest bedroom.

It seemed that in his absence gravity did some more work, and his guest was slumped on the sofa, dripping water and mud everywhere under him. Scowling slightly at the mess, the hobbit put down his load, and went about cleaning it. First he straightened the man up, as much as he could, propping him with a few pillows and a book to keep his head straight. Then he tugged off his boots, gagging at the smell, and then unwrapped his foot wraps, nearly throwing up. Next went the coat. That took some clever maneuvers as his guest was continuously determined to end up on the floor, on Bilbo, in the basin, or in top of the dirty foot wrappings. But the hobbit succeeded and the coat was left a soggy mess on the floor.

Unlacing the other’s shirt, Bilbo gingerly peeled it off the man, once more cringing at the smell, and then widening his eyes at the amount of body hair that he possessed. He had never in his life seen anyone as hairy as this person! Bilbo thought it looked a bit like a hairy animal had made a home on his chest and arms. Then his eyes fell on the man’s pants and he felt hesitant. Was he being too forward in all this? He didn’t really know the other at all, and here he was, ridding him of his under breeches, like no one’s business. But he supposed that this was better than letting him fester in all that filth while he was sick. With that though steeling his reserve the hobbit’s clever fingers went to work tugging off the guest’s intricate leather belt, and then on, unlacing the strings holding the breeches together. The heavy leather did not help the matter at all when the poor hobbit had to tug off the pants, and then making him blush spectacularly when it turned out that his guest’s underpants had stuck true to the pants and were pulled down with them, making Bilbo face the genitals head on, when he finally raised his head after pulling off the other’s last piece of wear.

‘Well’ thought Bilbo ‘it’s certainly impressive’.

Forcibly subsiding his blush, Bilbo finished undressing the man, and started about cleaning him up. Towels went to good use, soon ending up right next to the foot wraps, their dirtiness rivaling the clothes; balms and ointments were smeared on bruises and bandages wrapped where needed. Finally Bilbo rose from his knees and looked at the finished result. Well, it looked like the man was finally clean, and the only thing left to take care of appearance vise was his hair and beard.

Going back to the kitchen Bilbo rinsed the basin, refilled the kettle and set it to boil, and then grabbed a pitcher of cold water. Once everything was ready, he went back to the other room and , standing behind the man, started to untangle the nest that his hair had turned into after the rain, mud, and dirt that he had laid in for who knows how long.

Clumps of dirt, twigs, rocks, and an occasional bug were all fished out and deposited into the waste basket. Bilbo then washed the mane as best as he could, and did the same with the beard. Finally, after at least half hour of struggle, the hair were wet, but clean, the beard no longer looked like a ball of tangled yarn, and there were no more visible bruises in sight. Bilbo though he had done a rather good job of patching the other up and was now faced with the task of getting him into bed.

Some struggling and a hurt foot later, the hobbit succeeded and with a dull thud that might or might not have been the man’s head hitting the headboard, Bilbo chose not to think on that, the body was deposited on the bed, and covers rolled on top of him.

Feeling exhausted, but accomplished Bilbo closed the door, quickly cleaned himself up, and went to bed. He had a tiring day, and felt that he deserved the rest.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time in a very long while Thorin woke up feeling refreshed, comfortable, warm and surprisingly safe. Nothing hurt, nothing pulled, and the dull ache he could feel from his body was nothing compared to the usual thrum of discomfort. He hesitated in opening his eyes. If this was a dream Thorin wanted it to last a little while longer. Unfortunately he couldn’t let himself linger in the pleasant daze for too long as he was still unaware of where exactly he was at the moment.

  
The dwarf stirred ever so slightly, feeling the pull of wrappings on his body, the caress of sheets, smelling old wood, fresh linen, and lavender. On top of that smell though were the unpleasant odors of wet dog, heavy musk of earth, and the sharp sourness of blood. Those smells were what alerted him to the wrongness of the situation. Jerking upwards and slamming back down with a groan as it turned out that nothing hurt only when nothing moved, Thorin finally woke up and opened his eyes.

  
He was greeted with a white ceiling, intercrossed by dark wooden rafters. Looking around he saw a nicely furnished room, knick knacks everywhere, and by the corner, a couch, that looked as though it’s been inhabited by an orc. There were smudges of dirt all over it, a pile of mud and slowly drying water under it, a heap of clothes and dirty material by it, and a basin filled with dirty water standing behind it. Squinting a little bit Thorin recognized his own clothing in the pile of dirty rags on the floor. Those made him blink, and cautiously lift the blanket, peeking under it. He slammed it down, as soon as he realized that yes, he truly was naked. The only article that could even remotely be counted as clothing on him, were the numerous bandages wrapped around his torso, legs, arms, and fingers. He looked right ready for burial.

  
He groaned as he tried to move more, but it seemed that his pain was lying dormant under all those wrappings and he couldn’t bring himself to go against it right now. Thorin resolved to just rest for a bit, and looked around the room, slowly going everything he saw. It looked as though this was not a human home, judging by the height of the ceiling and the unusually round door. But it was not a dwarven one either, as there was too much wooden furniture and flowers in little vases on the round windowsill. Add to that bunches of lavender that hanged from the rafters in every corner of the room, and Thorin was a bit stumped, until he remembered where he was heading before his tumble and realized that this must be a hobbit’s house.

  
Just as he made that realization, the door leading to the room started opening and Thorin hurriedly closed his eyes. He wanted to know whose home he was in, and what the best way to react later was. So he decided to lay in wait and observe.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

  
Bilbo woke up with a dull ache in his back and a throb in his shoulders. At first he was confused as to what exactly could have caused such a reaction, but then memories of having to lug a motionless lump of a man all the way from the road to his hole resurfaced and Bilbo let his head fall back into the pillow with a groan. That’s right; he had an unplanned guest now. His eyes opened. A guest still in need of medical care and a room fool with dirty clothes and bandages, and towels that had been left there since last night’s escapade of trying to get him clean and wrapped.

  
The hobbit stretched his hands above his head grabbed hold of the headboard, arched his back and raised it raised on his toes, making his body into a bow, arching it higher and higher until he felt a satisfying pop come from his spine.

  
Happy with the results of his stretch Bilbo threw off the blankets, righted the bed coverings, and went towards getting dressed. Throwing on some of his older clothes, as he would be dealing with muck, the hobbit closed the door to his room, and opened the one next to it. Trying to be as quiet as he can, as to not wake up his guest, Bilbo picked up the dirty pile, and carried it out towards the cleaning room. He came back a few moments later to gather the rest of the supplies, which were swiftly deposited in the same direction, and finally grabbed some more towels and a mop.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

  
Thorin observed the newcomer with interest. He was quite short, even for dwarf standards, had the curliest hair Thorin ever saw, was bare footed and was wearing some nondescript clothes. Through all his little cleaning frenzy he had a very open face that occasionally lit up with a smile and Thorin couldn’t help but wish to see it better and closer than what he was currently allowing himself to.

  
His host as it seemed, went about getting the pile of dirty material out of his room, came back with cleaning supplies and efficiently took care of the mess on, by, and behind the couch. He went away then, and Thorin found himself disappointed. He was quite enjoying the view presented to him by the hobbit on his knees as he mopped up the water under the furniture, but then he came back into the room, this time with a little bag that clicked as he moved.

  
The dwarf felt the bed dip by his side, and made an effort to relax his face, and not move. He felt soft gentle hands ran over his face, and straighten his hair. A wet towel was placed on his forehead; pleasantly cool on his hot skin. Then he felt the hands slide lower and start tugging off the blanket. That Thorin could not allow in good conscious and grabbed the hand, opening his eyes for the first time in the presence of the hobbit and staring intently in his surprised gaze. Thorin was mesmerized for a moment at the play of colors in the other’s eyes, as he couldn’t determine if they were blue or green or grey. Then he was slumped even further by the soft voice that greeted him.

  
“Good morning there” Smiled the hobbit; not minding the hand digging into his wrist, as he nimbly untangled and placed it down on the blanket. “So what’s your name then?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Is it not polite to introduce yourself first when meeting someone, hobbit?” Asked the dwarf as his hand was put down on the blankets.

  
“Of course, pardon my manners, it’s just that it isn’t every night that one finds a half buried dwarf on the side of the road and has to carry him, and his pack, all the way home” Smiled Bilbo easily as he settled on the side of the bed, and continued to bring bottles and vials out of his bag, placing them on the nightstand.

“My name is Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo, of Bag End; where you just happen to be now, my unexpected but welcome guest. That is in Shire, in case you didn’t know” finished the hobbit and turned his expectant eyes on the man on the bed.

  
“I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain” answered the other, as he inclined his head slightly.

  
Bilbo kept looking at the dwarf in his bed, and said: “Pleasure to make your acquaintance Thorin, son of Thrain. Would you mind if I finished tending to your injuries now, or would you prefer some breakfast first?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured at the medicine bottles littering the stand. He personally would have preferred food, but the health of Thorin was also supposed to be considered, and being a polite gentlehobbit that he was, Bilbo placed the needs of his guest first.

  
Thorin kept his eyes on the hob- Bilbo, as he contemplated the decision. On one hand it hurt to move and healing would be more then welcome at this point. On the other hand his stomach was about to sing hymns to the Lonely Mountain in Kuzdul if it didn’t get anything in it and fast. The need for food was great, and the dwarf decided that he could stand a bit of pain if it meant he would get sustenance for the first time in quite a while.

  
“I would not wish to impose any further then I already have master hobbit, but food would be most appreciated right now” said Thorin making a motion to get up. Unfortunately it seemed that hours of leisure had made sure that all the stiffness and pain that had been kept at bay by the adrenalin of walking and just simply moving, were now coming back with a passion. The dwarf gasped as sharp stinging sensation went through his head and grabbed a fistful of his thick hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he fell back down on the pillows. Unfortunately for him, he made the same miscalculation that may or may not have made by Bilbo during the time of getting the dwarf to bed, and his head landed on the head board with a dull thud. Sharp pain dazzled through an already injured body part as Thorin let out a short wail.

  
Bilbo at the moment was torn between laughing and franticly reaching towards the unfortunate man. Gently tugging his hands from the entrapment of the hair, the hobbit scooted closer still and looked at the blooming bump, growing like a little hill out of the mountain of hair. He sighed and reached towards the trusty bag, fishing out a flat stone. It was something that has been in his family for quite a bit of time, and was given to him by his maternal grandmother. Apparently it was an ever cold rock from the Icebay of Forochel in the far north by the mountains of Angmar. That stone had always been used to reduce swellings such as this, as it seemed to seep in the mass, and provide soothing coolness to the affected area.

  
The hobbit lowered Thorin on to the pillows, without hitting him on anything this time, and pressed the blue rock to his head. The dwarf made a pained noise at the jostling, but sighed contently as his plight began to go away, faster than he could have anticipated. Raising his eyes towards the hobbit, Thorin let them wander up and down his form, appreciation on his gaze. Bilbo did not seem to notice any of that though, as his concentration was firmly on the blue rock, and its swelling mass. Gingerly removing his palm, the other looked over his handiwork, and nodded his head in satisfaction: the swelling was gone, and the area around the bump no longer looked enflamed or throbbing.

  
“It looks like luck is on your side once more, master dwarf,” said Bilbo as he smiled at his patient “ you are not permitted to move, until your scraps and fever are gone, and as that, I will be bringing food to you, as soon I look over what can be done for your health”. With that the resident healer promptly threw off the dwarf’s covers, not listening to his choked protests, and rolled him over on his, making Thorin’s quite naked arse face him. Nimble fingers and quick hands undid the bandages covering the presented areas, swiped off the remainders of the salves from last night and reapplied them in a sure, professional motion. Bilbo hauled the dwarf up, letting him support himself on his hands, and did the same with his front.

  
“Do not let it be said, Thorin, son of Thrain, that hobbits do not know medicine” said Bilbo warmly as he glanced at the red dwarf when he tried to clutch the blankets over his lap” most might not, but as a part-Took, there is much need for healing knowledge. Take this stone for example” presented the hobbit his blue wonder to the other” A simple looking thing, and yet it stays forever cold, and swells as it devours the illness from one it is applied to.”

  
Thorin subsided his embarrassment as much as he could, giving up on the blankets, and let the hobbit move down, towards his belly and thighs. Not at all an unpleasant sight, if only it was not in the medicinal purposes. Taking the offered object from him, the dwarf looked over it and puzzled at the sensation. He looked with amazement as the scraps and swells on his palm disappeared and the stone glowed and grew a little.

  
“What magic is this?” exclaimed Thorin as he experimentally put the rock on his elbow and felt the slight pain that was present there subside and reduce.

  
“I do not know, as much I regret to say” answered Bilbo “The stone has been in our family for a few generations, and my grandmother used to tell me that it had been brought by her grandfather on one of his travels from the Icebay of Forochel, up in the north. We only have to put it on the ice for a night in order for it to return to its smaller size and be cold until needed again.” The hobbit smiled from the foot of the bed where he just finished rewrapping the dwarf’s foot that had a jagged cut, most likely from a rock he took on while tumbling down the road.

  
“It is an exceptional item,” nodded Thorin as he placed it on the nightstand” is there a limit to its ability?” asked he, looking at the mentioned stone.

  
“It won’t heal you whole, that’s for sure. I think the biggest it’s done is fixed the scrapes and bruises on one hobbit, before stopping its growth” pondered Bilbo as he recalled his own scraps from his childhood of climbing trees and rocks. “When the limit is reached, it simply stops working, doesn’t grow anymore, and slowly loses its cool, until the replenishing process is used again. And speaking of replenishing; your ailments are rewrapped, some scraps are healed. Your head I’d imagine is feeling better, and as so, sit tight, pull up your blanket; you’re reducing the size of your dwarfhood; I shall be back with breakfast momentarily.

  
On that cheerful note the hobbit picked up his bag, deposited it on the now cleaned couch, and walked towards the door. Sending a sly wink towards the stunned naked dwarf in his bed, Bilbo swaggered out of the room in order to fix them some nourishment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter, so I don’t lose your trust and follows:  
> • Thorin is 195 in the movie  
> • Bilbo is 50  
> • Coming of age for hobbits-33  
> This will still be slash, but the story will be spun through a few years. Still taking votes for a pairing, although all of you so far want Thilbo. I kind of do too… Oh well! Enjoy Chapter 5.

Bilbo let out a small laugh as he recalled the frozen expression on the dwarf’s face as he clamored about the kitchen and pantry for his more portable food that did not require a lot of preparation. He finally settled on a plateful of cold chicken, some boiled and lightly roasted potatoes with herbs, a few mince mean pies, and a bowl of cold stewed vegetables. The hobbit piled all of his finds on top of a sturdy board with handles, made for just such an occasion, and, not forgetting to settle a bottle of red currant juice and a couple of mugs on the crook of his arms, walked back towards Thorin’s room.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Thorin sat at the bed, the blankets bunched up under his feet as it took him a moment to comprehend what the hobbit was talking about. Sneaking a glance towards his…dwarfhood…he felt that he did not agree with his host, and the size did not change at the slightest. Never the less he headed the call, and with a grunt leant forward to grab the mentioned material in order to pull it up. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that the wounds in his back were not as complacent with said decision and protested vehemently. Thorin tried to make his movements as slow and unassuming as possible, but the effort still left him a bit breathless as he settled back into the feather stuffed pillows, covered with the blanket. He left his hands on the outside in anticipation of the meal, and his mind went towards the daring gestures of one Bilbo Baggins. He could honestly say that this was the first time somebody had handled him like that, with so little disregard towards his privacy. Perhaps it was different for hobbits, their view on decency, but in the dwarvish society one did not yank off the one thing keeping the modesty of another safe! It was simply not done, and now Thorin was not quite certain on how to act around the other.

  
As he sat there thinking, and feeling the medicines and salves slowly do their business, the hobbit entered the room once more, arms laden with food and drink. Thorin’s stomach sung a happy verse at the mention of that and readied itself for a busy morning.

  
Bilbo smiled as he saw his guest finally safely under the covers and placed the board on his lap.

“Here we go Mr. Oakenshield, sir! Chicken, taters, greens, and pies. All perfectly filling, and very good for you on a morning as such. Topper it off with some red currant and you’ll be right as rain in no time, not wincing and cringing, but up and about.” Said Bilbo as he settled himself on the sofa and filled the mugs with juice. Rising slightly he placed one of them within easy reach of the dwarf, stole a small potato from the plate and popped it into his mouth.

  
Thorin followed the heroic journey of the potato with his eyes and swallowed.

“Is it custom to steal food from one’s guest in Shire?” asked the dwarf with as much dignity as one who wished to be a piece of food could possess.

  
Bilbo faltered and looked at Thorin. His eyes widened at the question and a smile broke through his lips.

“Well, generally we wait until elevensies to do that, but I think one can afford a leeway in such a situation.” He laughed “Never the less ‘tis a good point you make, and I shall go grab myself a plate.”

With those parting words the still chuckling hobbit rose and walked towards the door. “Do you want anything else while I am in the kitchen?”

  
The dwarf shook his head and continued to eat the excellent pie,“No Master Hobbit. It seems you have brought everything.”

  
The hobbit nodded and trotted off towards the kitchen. Once he was in there, quick work was made to get a plate and cutlery, along with napkins, and returned to the guest bedroom to his dwarven guest, sitting on the bed, with bandages being one of the only things to hide his modesty. Thinking about that as he settled on the couch and took some food for himself Bilbo pondered whether he should fix his guest clothes or just get him new ones. Sneaking a glance at the eating dwarf, he resorted to cleaning and mending what he could, as it did not look as though the man could really afford a whole new set of attire. But perhaps…

  
“Tell me Master Thorin, why was I able to find you in such an unfortunate condition under the road? There has been talk of upcoming storm all morning; surely you would have been warned of it at any of your previous stops?” Asked the hobbit as he cleaned his mouth with a folded napkin, while staring at Thorin with inquisitive eyes.

  
Thorin pulled his attention from the food and gathered his thoughts.

“I have been warned of it Master Baggins, but I had thought that the distance between my previous stop and Shire would be covered before the dratted rain started. It appears I have been wrong and have paid for my miscalculation with bruises and hurts. Although now I must say that I do not fault the rain, as it had brought me here” Smiled the dwarf as he scooted a little closer to the edge of the bed and let a small smile onto his face.

  
“Hmm…Yes, but you see it was I who brought you to this place. On my back. In the rain. And you, my dear dwarf fellow are no maiden to be carted around. You’re taller than me, and at least two times as wide! No mean task for one of my size I must tell you...” said hobbit as he went by the bed collecting the plates and placing them back on the wooden board.

  
Thorins expression sunk as he realized that favorable first impression was unfortunately impossible at this point. As he looked over the hobbit and actually paid attention to his stature, he marveled that the lad even had the strength to bring him back. Was he a dwarf he would be considered a mere dwarfling. That thought brought Thorin’s mind to a halt as he reconsidered his advances. What is he was? What if he had been making eyes at a really young hobbit? He had no way of judging the other’s age having never dealt with hobbits before. Dread settled in the dwarf’s stomach and he hastily called towards the retreating figure

“Master Baggins! An inquiry if you may. How many summers have you seen in your life?”

  
“If that is a question relating to my competence as a healer I must assure I have had more than enough time to study the medicinal purposes of many herbs and their application as well” answered the hobbit with a bit of a small huff.

Why was it that everyone questioned his abilities? He was good at what he did! He knew his bayberry and winter cherries from asphodel and wolfs bane. His grandmother was a great healer and she taught him everything she knew before she passed.

  
“No, no, Master Hobbit, do not misunderstand it is…” Thorin scrambled to come up with a way to ask with without further offending his host “…a custom! Yes a custom for the dwarfs to know the age of their hosts if there is even an occasion where that knowledge is not known prior to the first meeting.” This particular dwarf was just happy that he came up with that explanation for his query.

  
“Oh, I’m sorry for being presumptuous then Master Oakenshield.”

Calmed Bilbo. The dwarf didn’t doubt him, he was just being polite. That he could do with. “I have recently celebrated my 32d birthday.” He knew he was a bit young, but he only had a year till his coming of age. It didn’t mean he was not fully capable of living on his own, and it wasn’t as if he had a choice at the matter either. Is mother passed a long time ago, and his father it seemed didn’t quite have the same will to go on living without her next to him.

  
As he heard the hobbits answer Thorin felt deep seated shame well up inside of him. 32! The lad wasn’t even fully grown yet, and here was Thorin…He had enough tidbits of knowledge to know that hobbits were not considered mature until they were at the very least 33, and even then it was frowned upon for them to have relations. He silently sent a thank you to Balin who had tutored him as a lad, in order to know the customs of the people of Middle Earth. He still remembered the exact angle an elf can incline his head in order to show the recipient of the gesture either respect or deep sated loathing…

  
As the information sunk in and the hobbit was still standing at the door with a look of expectation on his face the dwarf forced himself to talk.

“Thank you Master Baggins for indulging my…custom. I am 177.”

  
The hobbits eyes went a bit round at the number. Well no wonder the dwarf doubted him; he wasn’t even a fifth of Thorin’s age!

“My, you must have seen a lot. Are all dwarves blessed with long lives? If you do not mind me asking.” Said the hobbit as he leaned against the frame.

  
“The dwarves are blessed with even longer one Master Baggins” smiled Thorin as he reclined on the pillows but turned his head to still face the one on the doorway. He was growing tired once more, and it has been such a long time since he had had a proper bed to support his back, and soft pillows for his head. Slowly he was sinking into deep state of relaxation, and now that he knew his advances would not be proper, the urge to show them had grown smaller.

“I am a dwarf in my prime, and yet I have many more years ahead of me, before I am even begun to be considered old. We are the people of mountains and rocks, and rock takes forever to age” finished the dwarf.

  
Bilbo smiled at the answer and started turning away. He saw the way the dwarf’s head seemed to have sunk into the pillows and realized that his guest must have once more be tired. Well, all the best for him, as it would give Bilbo time to take care of his and Thorin’s clothes.

“You just rest then Master Oakenshield. Holler when you wake up and I shall bring more food and medicine.” With those words the hobbit slinked out of the room, softly closing it with his hip, and went about cleaning up the remains of breakfast.


	6. Chapter 6

Bilbo sat in armchair next to the fire and hummed as he mended the clothes of his guest. It was mostly leather and weaves, and he was very glad that the old leather kit was found in the back of an old chest, and his mother’s knitting needles were not lost to the Sackville-Bagginses. Bilbo glanced at his window and the rivulets of water that cascaded down the glass and wire frame. The rain still hadn’t stopped even after a full night and half a day of pouring down. It seemed as though the weather was not in a kind mood and Bilbo pitied anyone who would have to find themselves outside at the moment. He heard the whistle from the kitchen and hurriedly put down the heavy coat. Patting to the kitchen he took the kettle off the stove and set it aside, while pulling out the herbal brew he had gathered last month. Catnip, Elder Flowers, Peppermint, Echinacea; dried and meshed into a fine powder, mixed together and set with honey into little blocks.

Bilbo found that it helped with the preservation and the overall taste of the remedy. Filling up a pot, he got out the tray and settled his supplies on it. The tea, biggest mug he had in the hole, and a bowl with cold water, in which a rug was already soaking. Picking it up the hobbit made the short trek towards the guest bedroom, currently occupied with a feverish dwarf.

  
It took a bit to coax a delirious Thorin to drink the still bitter tea, but Bilbo insisted and one does not argue with one’s healer. Two mugs later the hobbit sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled down the covers once again. He could see perspiration on the dwarf, sweat gathered in crevices, and soaking his brow and hair. Lifting the soaked rug Bilbo gently but insistently scrubbed off the accumulated grime and muck, and wringing the cloth, swiped it over Thorin’s forehead and face. The other shuddered at the cold water but did not awaken, as it the fever was still strong.

Bilbo could only thank the Valar that they saw fit to bring the dwarf across his path, as he did not think that he would have been fine otherwise. He was the only healer in Shire, and he doubted that anyone else would have been as welcoming as him towards a dirty and dangerous looking stranger. Never mind actually looking after him when he was sick. So all in all Bilbo was quite content with the situation. It still brought up a question of why exactly Thorin was even in Shire, and what was he looking for, but he thought that the question could wait until the other could actually move on his own again. Finished with his task Bilbo returned to his cozy armchair and resumed the mending of the coat.

  
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A few days have passed and Thorin did not feel like a foot rug anymore. He began walking around Bag End and looking at Bilbo’s books, maps and scrolls, occasionally pausing before a particularly interesting one, but frowning every time he came across one with elven text or drawing. Bilbo observed it with a smile, and a bit of confusion. He had offered the dwarf lodgings until his business was conducted when Thorin actually had the time to tell him what he doing in Hobbiton.

  
_“I come from the Blue Mountains in search of work. I came across a fellow who mentioned that there might be a need of a blacksmith in the area, and made my way to Shire. Unfortunately it seems as though my previous…conditions have caught up with me, and have as such rendered me to your hands.”_

  
Bilbo could plainly see that dwarf was not comfortable talking about his ailments and let it slide, as he understood pride, mighty as it was present in his guest.

One did not start talking about their own weakness, past or present, in the company of a near stranger. And even though Bilbo thought that he had gained the other’s confidence in the days he took care of him, he understood Thorin’s reluctance. And in that understanding he did not ask too many questions, merely providing a meal and a warm bed for the dwarf, after he would venture outside and look for prospective wares. Soon enough the folk of Shire got used to handling their blacksmithing business with the sullen inhabitant of Bag End, and Bilbo almost stopped getting strange looks from the neighbors.

  
Thorin, it appeared, was incredibly skilled with a hammer and with the smallest effort was able to fix everything brought to him, and even create a few new things. In the month’s pass, he would finish his jobs by sundown, and travel back to his temporary house, where he would be met with the smiling face of the small hobbit, a warm and hearty meal, pipe weed and an armchair, that Thorin himself has constructed within the first week, when he was still weak and unable to move too much. Bilbo has since then outfitted it with a knitted blanket, long enough to be wrapped about Thorin three or so times and still leave some corners hanging, a puffed up leather bag, stuffed with straw, that serves as a foot stool for the taller dwarf, and a semi-permanent little table next to side of it, that now held Thorin’s pipe, a book he found interesting at the moment and had a place to fit Bilbo’s largest mug.

  
The dwarf felt for the first time in a long while that he was comfortable. He had ventured into many places in his years, most of them unwelcoming and with little to none accommodations. He would rarely find a place to sleep comfortably, or have enough money to eat his fill, never mind drink it. Here in Bag End, with Bilbo’s easy referral’s he had gotten plenty of jobs, a soft bed and a warm room, hot meals whenever he wanted, and a mug of ale at a any time. He had books, a luxury not allowed to him since the fall of Erebor. He had a sense ease and dare he say belonging in the house of his host, the hobbit Bilbo Baggins.

  
Bilbo who was young was also incredibly intelligent, well-read, and tremendously curious. He reminded Thorin often of his nephews with his questions about all the places Thorin has been to, the things he has seen, and the people he met. Often time, when evening would settle, and dinner eaten, Thorin would stretch on his armchair, with his feet on the leather bag, a mug of ale in one hand, and pipe in the other, and tell the hobbit of his travels. He found the fascination that shone in the hobbit’s eyes pleased him a great deal, and to his own surprise told him more of the exciting and interesting things, rather than the hardships he had seen while observing them. Bilbo would on the other hand be often found in his own armchair across from Thorin, with a little portable writing desk popped on his pal, hand flying over bits of parchment, or a scroll, desperate to write the whole story down and not miss a word.

  
Bilbo was more excited the past month that he had been in years. He thanked the Valar quite a few times by now for sending Thorin his way. The dwarf was amazing, and a variable well of information on foreigh lands, customs, and even bits of language. Although Bilbo was more than a bit certain that most of the words that Thorin had told him in other languages were more at home at a tavern brawl, possibly while drunk, most likely in the company of seamen…or dwarfs. Never the less, as his hand cramped from too much writing, ears straining to hear the smallest details, he couldn’t be happier. Which made the day Throin announced he was leaving even harder.

  
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As much as Thorin has enjoyed his stay at Shire in general and Bag End in particular, two months have passed since he had settled there, and it was time for him to journey back to the Blue Mountain and gives his sister and her sons the support they needed. He had accumulated quite a bit of money from the jobs on the way to and at Shire, and now could afford to make his way back, and have enough for his family. So when evening came and Bilbo was busy sitting the dirty dishes in the sink, Thorin put his arms on the table, leaned his head down and said

“I will be leaving soon.”

  
Bilbo’s hands paused and then resumed their task. Without turning the hobbit asked

“What do you need for your journey?”

He had known that the dwarf would not be staying forever, but he had grown complacent in his comfort, and the comfort of company. They worked well, and Bilbo could hardly remember the time when he did not have to turn his nose at the smell of dwarf boots by the door, or the sight of his coat on the hook in the hall, or the smell of his pipe weed by the fire. He had grown used to Thorin being there to help with the small repairs around Bag End, and the neighbors knocking on his door, leaving messages for the dwarf, and orders for him to come and fill later. He’d gotten quite good at handling unhappy customers and sidetracking those who wanted to gossip about his guest. And now it seemed that he would be alone once more, with only his books for company.

  
Thorin’s gaze fell heavily on the hobbits back as he noticed the strained movements of his shoulders as Bilbo continued to clean up around the kitchen.

“I have been away from my family for too long, and they need me. I have already secured a pony and the supplies, the last job paid well enough for that and left me some coin to spend. I would be very grateful to you though, if you gave me some medicines to take with me. I do not wish to succumb to the conditions again, especially since there will not a hobbit nearby to haul me to safety now” smiled Thorin.

  
Bilbo turned towards him and smiled in return. His hands were covered with a towel as he dried them, and he leaned against the table to have a better view of his guest.

“You will always be welcome here in Shire Thorin Oakenshield. The hobbits have grown used to sight of a dwarf running the forge now, and they have grown used to you being the only one able to fix their plows, hoes, and rakes so well they look and perform better than when they were new. They would miss you, I know it.”

  
“And would you Halfling? Would you miss me?” asked Thorin as he lifted his eyes to meet Bilbo’s smiling ones.

  
“You know I would.” Grinned Bilbo “I don’t quite know how, but you have made yourself at home here, and home it shall remain, for as long as you would have it. Ofcourse that pipe weed of yours might not last until your next visit, but…” he dragged the “u” a bit and smiled gently.

“I have to tell you Thorin. There has never been a day where I thought I would be glad to have hauled a bundle of dirt and fur towards my doorstep, but you have proved me wrong. And I am happy for that. You have given me something I see now I was lacking, and I thank you for that.”

  
“And what have I given you Bilbo?” asked Thorin, genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

  
“Well I should think that you have given me a friend” smiled Bilbo, lowering his eyes.

“And while I might not be a friend of yours, you are of mine. And I will cherish that notion for as long as you permit me.”

  
Thorin’s throat felt a bit hoarse as he listened to the hobbit’s answer

“Do not insult me Bilbo Baggins!” said the dwarf as he stood up and came forward, gripping Bilbo’s arm in his strong hand.

  
Bilbo’s eyes widened as he stared at Thorin’s face, and his storm-filled expression.

  
“You have given me comfort. You have healed me, and showed me kindness when no one else would have. You have helped me make use of my stay here, and brought business to my hands. You, Bilbo Baggins, have insisted and persisted and made sure that I knew every hobbit in Shire by name and habit, and ensured that I knew the best way to deal with them. You have taught me the customs of your folk, so I would not make an unmannered fool of myself. And now you say that you are not my friend?”

Thorin paused to grip Bilbo’s chin in his fingers and brought his face up to meet his eyes, mere inches separating the two, as their breaths mixed together with every word said and thought.

“You are a friend of mine Bilbo. A dear friend. Never doubt that.”

With those words Thorin’s lips settled on the hobbits forehead in and pressed there for a kiss, hand never leaving his face.

  
Bilbo’s eyes widened at the words Torin was pouring out, and a small smile broke through his astonished face. He closed his eyes as he felt the dwarfs lips settle on his brow and his fingers clutched at his coat.

“Thank you…” whispered Bilbo into Thorin’s beard.

  
Thorin pulled away, reluctant to depart from the coziness of the hobbit. He was stalled by fingers on his lapels, and let his gaze fall towards Bilbo’s hands.

Gently he put his own on top of them and slowly brought them together, bending a bit to look at the other. He was greeted with a sunny grin that threatened to split Bilbo’s face at any moment, and then a feeling of embrace as he flung his arms around the stunned dwarf.

  
“Thank you Thorin” was whispered in his ear.

  
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In the morning Bilbo stood in the doorway of Bag End, leaning against the frame, as he watched his friend ride away from his cozy hobbit hole on a small brown pony, with satchels filled with supplies and an axe strapped to his back. As Thorin neared the border of the Shire still visible from Bilbo’s home, he turned a bit, laid his eyes on the small figure still standing in the doorway, and raised his hand, watching as a smaller hand flew into the air in return.

The dwarf carried on his journey, macabre thought pushed into the depth of his mind for the moment, as his memories were filled with a warm smile, the glow of the fire as it illuminated a sweet face, a waterfall of curls that smelled like lavender and daisies, and the feeling of small but strong arms around his neck as Bilbo pulled him into an embrace. Thorin promised himself that he would be back at Bag End as soon as circumstances permitted, and who knew…perhaps by then the just-barely-almost-really-but not really-legal hobbit would be of age. And Thorin’s mind would at least not be plagued with thought of repercussions he would face from Bilbo’s numerous relatives.

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A few months have passed since Thorin left the hobbit hole, and Bilbo had settled into his old routine of books, markets and garden contests between the neighbors. As he was sitting in his armchair, reading over the notes he made from Thorin’s words, a great stomping echoed from his door. Unsettled and a bit ruffled at the loud sound in the middle of the night, the hobbit stood and went towards the door, intending to find out exactly who was disturbing his peace. He did not expect to see a shadowed form standing at his door, next to battered leather bags and satchels. Nor did he expect the doubled voice greeting him from the darkness.

“Uncle Thorin sends his regards!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is Chapter 6 ladies and gents! My longest to date I think. Tell me what you think, tell me if you guessed where the oakensteed is from, or if you know who showed up at Bilbo’s door now


	7. Chapter 7

Bilbo stood at the door a bit bewildered and it took him a moment to comprehend what was being said. But once he gathered his wits and played the sentence back in his mind, a grin split his face and he moved aside from the doorway, holding the heavy wood open to his guests.

  
“Uncle Thorin, huh?” he said “He never said he had nephews, I just always assumed he had kids when he said family. Well no matter, come on in, its cold and the wind is picking up, we don’t want you to freeze now do we?”

At his words the shadowy form on his doorstep shifted, and split in two, both figures quickly picking up their bags and shuffling inside the warm hobbit hole.

  
“Fili” said the first one as he sat down his satchel and leaned a walking stick against the door. He threw back the hood of his cloak and Bilbo was greeted with a sight of familiar blue eyes, and a head full of wheat-colored hair. The dwarf was slightly taller than Bilbo himself, and considerably younger then Thorin was.

  
“Kili” sounded from his side, as the second figure also took off his cloak and hanged it on the hook that Thorin used to put his own coat on. He was even younger than Fili from what Bilbo could see, and had a mane of dark wooden colored hair and leather colored eyes. Bilbo privately thought that the brothers divided between themselves Thorin’s best features with Fili getting his eyes and nose, and Kili his face and mouth.

  
“At your service Master Baggins” said both dwarfs as they bowed at the waist to the surprised hobbit. When they straightened out and looked at Bilbo he remembered his manners and hastily answered.

  
“Oh, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, at yours.” And gave a shallow bow back.

  
Fili and Kili exchanged glances and their faces lit up with smiles, different from the sullen expression they had on seconds ago. “You’re a lot different than what we expected.” Said Kili as he eyed the hobbit, that was at the moment closing his front door.

  
Bilbo’s eyebrows rose at that statement. “What do you mean by that?”

  
Fili stepped forward with a glance towards his brother.

“What he means to say is when uncle Thorin came back to the Blue Mountains he looked a lot happier than he did before, and it was apparent that it wasn’t just the gold weighting his pockets.”

Kili stepped up at that “Yes, he was more relaxed and less snappy.”

Fili nodded and leaned against Kili “When we asked him why he seemed that way he told us that he met a very good person, and that if we ever saw that person we were to show him the utmost regard and respect.”

“But he never said you would be so young and cute!” Finished both dwarfs as they leaned in closer to Bilbo and stared at his face with leers.

  
On instinct the hobbit reared back and his palms landed on the brothers’ cheeks smooshing them together and slamming their other cheeks against each other. The dwarfs ender up mushed together with faces pressed close, puckered lips, and wide opened eyes. Their astonished expression only steeled Bilbo’s resolve to establish himself as the master of the house quicker.

  
Pinching the brothers’ ears in his hands Bilbo’s face settled into a scowl as he dragged both of them towards the bathroom ignoring their yelps and yips.

Showing both of them into the little room Bilbo crossed his arms and glared.

“You are here as guests. Beyond your introduction I have no regard of you or your claims of relation to my friend. You will not disrespect and belittle me in my own house, after stepping foot in it for the first time not even a minute ago. And you especially will not be tracking mud and dirt into in after I work hard to keep it clean. Thorin learned to show his manners and if you think of staying here, then so will you. Now wash up, get yourselves presentable and then come out, I’ll pull out some food.”

With those words the hobbit closed the door and chuckling at the memory of astonished faces went towards the cold cellar to dig out some of Thorin’s favorite ale left over from the dwarf’s stay.

  
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The two dwarfs in the bathroom could only stare at the closed door and rub their ears. It seemed that when their uncle talked about the hobbit’s temper and quick reaction he was not exaggerating. Exchanging glances Fili and Kili imagined Thorin in their predicament and came up short.

“I do think brother dearest that we just mucked up any favorable first impression we could have given” said Fili quietly as he went about taking off his dirty clothes and dropping them in the corner.

  
“It appears so” answered Kili as he mirrored his brother and was already in the process of unlacing his boots. He glanced at Fili from his position on the floor.

“I really did not expect him to be like that you know. I though all hobbits were supposed to be well mannered, and fluttery, and shy, and all those things. I mean all of the others we met so far were. Remember that fella by the inn? He stumbled when he saw us!”

  
Kili raised his eyes towards the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Yes, but do you remember the first week after uncle came back? Mother was amazed at his behavior. He would wipe his feet before coming in, he thanked her for the meals, and he even was somewhat courteous to the neighbors! Not that that lasted long, but still…”

  
“I know what you mean…” mumbled Kili as he poured warm water all over his hair and back, attempting to get the debris of twigs and other trash out of it. “Do you really think it was Master Baggins that made him behave so?”

  
“Well, while I can’t imagine uncle being dragged around by his ear, I’m more then sure that the hobbit did something to install the behavior in him” contemplated Fili. “I think it’d be best if we behaved as well” finished the dwarf as he sunk into the barrel of hot water lined with a sheet of white cloth and groaned at the feeling of warm that seemed to seep into his bones.

  
Kili joined his brother in the wide barrel and let out a moan of his own as his head leaned against the side. It has been a very long time since they had the luxury of such accommodations, and the long weeks of travel had made them weary. Staying in the open, taking watches at night in order not to be attacked; having to scrap by in order to eat; never having enough to get a proper bed or food: all of those things had taken their toll on the brothers and it was amazing for them to finally relax and enjoy the simple comfort of enough hot water swirling around their bodies to cover them both up to their chins and still leave enough space to stretch their arms and legs.

  
Fili lazily eyed the shelves lining the interior of the bathroom and paused when his eyes landed on a few bottles with khuzdul writing on them. Stretching his arm out from the water he reached over and gathered them close. Skimming through the label the dwarf’s eyes widened and he hurriedly pushed the vials towards his brother’s face that by now opened his eyes and was watching him with curiosity. Kili’s eyes widened as well as he read what was on the bottles.

“Is that really?”

  
“Looks like it is…” drawled Fili as he twisted the bottle of what appeared to be a mixture of herbs and oils used for washing in his hands. The writing was their uncle’s but he knew that the dwarf had next to no knowledge of medicines and herbal brews. That left them coming to a conclusion that their host was the one to gather and make them.

  
“But those haven’t been available since the fall of Erebor” mumbled Kili as he opened the sealed vial. He stalled any further questions when the heavy smell of herbs, earth, and rock assaulted his nose. Widening his eyes the young dwarf brought the bottle closer to his nose and drew a deep breath, basking in the aroma that drifted out. He closed his eyes and immediately his uncle’s figure sprung to mind. When he had showed up all those weeks ago, smelling faintly of this exact mixture, and how his mother had paused at her hug, and buried her face deep into her brother’s neck inhaling the long forgotten smell.

  
“It appears brother, that we had heavily underestimated Master Baggins” said Fili as he took the vial from his relaxed sibling and took a whiff. The words fell out of his mouth heavy with new-found respect towards their host. The vials his uncle had brought with him were enough to fetch them an enormous amount of coin from the inhabitants of the Blue Mountain, who were in awe over the ability to smell something so long forgotten and sought after. And now here they were about to bathe in the essence that had been since long only available to those of the highest status.

  
Pouring a bit into his hand and inhaling deeply Fili motioned for Kili to come closer and started washing his long hair with the precious liquid. It gave an even deeper smell now that it was mixed with water, and bubbled on the crown of the younger brother’s head. Kili moaned in appreciation at the sensation of tingling that spread over his now extremely sensitive peak. Leaning his face against his brother’s shoulder Kili let him massage the mixture in, and then shuddered at the feeling of hot water trailing down as Fili washed it off. Even then he still was able to detect the aromas. Returning the favor to Fili he emptied the rest of the vile on his head and massaged it in, gathering foam in his hands and spreading it to his brother’s beard and whiskers as well.

  
Finished with their cleansing the brothers were surprised to see two piles of cloth at the door, safely away from the water puddles. The hobbit must have come in while they were busy, as their own wear was missing from the corner. Shrugging and putting on the slightly big tunics and breeches the brothers almost looked presentable, even though the outfits hanged on them like they were children. Kili recognized his uncle’s signature pattern on the cuffs and pointed it out to Fili.

“This must be Thorin’s from when he was here” said he tugging at his blue tunic and discovering a familiar weave on the collar as well.

  
Fili smiled at that and looked over his dark green wear, and spotted the weave his brother was talking about at the hem and collar. The feeling of belonging filled them both as they exchanged glances and smiled. They were in the house of their uncle’s friend, wearing his clothes, and smelling like him. It was like coming into his house and being greeted with familiar things, especially when Fili spotted a grooming kit of clearly dwarven origin on the shelf under the looking glass.

  
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While the brothers were seeing to their needs Bilbo was moving about the kitchen, pulling food out of the cupboards, ale out of the cellar, and setting down cutlery for three. It might have been the middle of the night and he might have already had dinner, but what hobbit would say no to a midnight snack? His temper had cooled off, and he realized that the two really had no way of knowing how to behave themselves in a hobbit household. Even Thorin took a bit to get used to his ways, and though he never fully contorted to them, Bilbo, with the use of a wooden spoon, and sharp tongue was eventually able to install some semblance of polite gratitude into the other. Now he would just have to use his previous experience on the stubborn dwarf’s nephews.

  
Just as he finished setting the table, and the kettle had blown its merry tune, the two aforementioned siblings came through the door. Bilbo raked an appreciative glance over the lithe figures and smiled, gesturing at the spread. “Please, sit down and have some dinner. I know that weather had been getting steadily worse ever since the summer has ended and it must have taken you a long time to get here. Although I must say that you two do look a great deal better then when you just came in”. With that the hobbit settled at his chair, leaving two across from him empty.

  
The brothers glanced at each other and Kili stepped forward. He bowed his head and said:

“Master Baggins before we eat, we would both like to apologize for our previous behavior and words. They were not spoken with malice or taunt, but rather lack of knowledge, and the presence of previous information. We have not been courteous guests to you, and for that we apologize. We hope to improve our behavior while here, if you would have us.” The young dwarf kept his head down, knowing that his brother was mirroring his gestures at his side, and both of them hoping to be forgiven.

  
Bilbo stared at the spectacle in front of him and bit back a smile. Well, it appeared as though Thorin had told them about him after all.

“Masters Kili and Fili, I thank you for your apology and accept in in good graces.” At that the dwarfs raised their heads. “A misunderstanding is just that and I take no lasting offence at you words, as long as your apology is sincere. Now please, before the food gets cold”.

  
Kili was the first one to eagerly plop down on the mentioned chair and dig into the delicious food. He moaned in appreciation as his mouth was assaulted with bursts of flavor and spices, some of them stronger than even he was used to. Fili was not far behind, filling his mug from the tankard on the table, and taking a gulp, enjoying the first feel of ale sliding down his throat. He smacked his lips at the taste and let his gaze settle on the amused hobbit, who was watching them over the rim of his own mug.

  
Bilbo could only smile as he looked over the brothers enjoy his wares. He was once more settling into the feeling of comfort that Thorin had brought to Bag End with his presence, and having his friend’s nephews here helped to alleviate some of the loneliness that had settled into his heart since the other left. Now as he observed the cheerful faces in front of him, he could almost imagine Thorin seated at his usual seat at the head of the table, sipping from Bilbo’s biggest mug, and looking over him as they ate their dinner after the dwarf came back from the day at the forge.

  
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Soon the late dinner was finished and Bilbo saw that his guests were nosing the plates in their attempts to stay awake a little longer. The hobbit smiled and said :

“Well then Fili, Kili. I think it is about time to settle in for the night if you do not mind. Come on, I’ll show you where I put your things”

With that he rose from the table and led the sleepy duo towards his spare room, where a big bed was located. The bed used to be his parents’ and Bilbo never had the heart to throw it away even after he renovated their room and took it for himself. And so the bed migrated into the spare room, taking up most of the space in it. Now though it was the only piece of furniture big enough to take both dwarfs at once as Bilbo did not feel that they would appreciate being separated.

  
Ushering the two stumbling dwarfs under the covers Bilbo watched as they immediately migrated close to each other and Kili fitted his head under his older brother’s chin. The hobbit smiled and pulled the covers over them both, silently creeping out of the room. As he was about to leave and close the door a quite mumble made him pause and listen. As he finally deciphered what he heard, Bilbo blushed and firmly closed the door. Leaning against it the hobbit’s cheeks were aflame with the blood rushing to them. He had never been called Auntie before…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 ladies and gents  AS always I thank you for sticking with me, and sending me your love and support through favorites, follows and reviews. I ‘m going to make Kili and Fili a bit more childlike, as they are still considered very young by dwarf standards. As you might know Gimli was not let go on the quest because he was only 60, and in this story Kili is only 59. So Bilbo will be a bit more mature then the brothers even though they are older in years.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I’m thinking Thorin showed up around late June, stayed until the end of summer, and journeyed back by end of September. So a few month after that would make this around the end of November, beginning of December, and just about to start snowing in Shire. And as we know it does snow there, even though not too hard.

Kili woke up in the softest bed he had ever felt in his life. It was most certainly not his own bed at the Blue Mountains, for that one was hard, and filled with straw, long pressed together from extensive use. It was ever more certainly not his bedroll used when traveling, as that was lumpy and often time did nothing to stop rocks and the unevenness of the ground from jarring into his back and sides. And it wasn’t even the beds at the taverns and inns he had stayed at, as they were narrow and hard as well.

No. This bed…oh this bed…Kili moaned as he spread his arms, feeling the side of a body next to him and recognizing it as Fili. Oh this wonderful bed felt like what Kili imagined a cloud to feel. Soft and springy, warm to the touch, and enveloping him in its embrace. The young dwarf rubbed his face in the pillow smelling faintly of lavender and stroked its stitching. The closer he pressed his nose into the corner of it the more pronounced the smell became. Kili smiled a wide grin as he snuggled deep into the comfort of the feather blankets and curled into as little ball as he could. Oh, he could live in a bed like that!

  
Awoken by his someone’s movements and rubbing at his eyes with a fist, Fili lifted his face off the pillow and looked at whatever disturbed his sleep. His brother was sprouting a grin, tightly closed eyes, and was attempting to burrow into the cushions and coverlets. Fili smiled as he saw that and then relaxed back into the bed. That’s when he felt it. Oh! The richly goodness and fluffiness of the material surrounding him finally leaked into the other’s mind as he sighed in appreciation and spread his arms and legs, letting his bodyweight sink him into the mattress. Feeling it cuddle his back and sides, smelling the herbs from the pillows, Fili’s eyes drifted lazily around the room. He saw that the bed took most of the space in it, and that sunlight was already seeping into the space from the half-drawn curtains, covering two little round windows on one of the walls. There was a dresser against the wall opposite of the bed with a few knick knacks on it, including and not limited to a ball of yarn, some knitting needles, a statuette of a cat, and a big bronze tray, leaned against the wall to display it.

  
Intrigued by the metal contraption Fili lifted his head and looked at it closer. The sides were a little bend, and dinged, a simple etching of a flower sat at the center, and the color seemed dim even in the bright sunlight. Fili’s hands started to itch. As he got up from the fluffy heaven and went towards the packs placed neatly by the door, his brother’s eyes followed him with curiosity.

  
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Bilbo was bustling around the kitchen, busy preparing breakfast with foods he remembered Thorin favoring when he heard the repetitive dings echoing all over the house. Intrigued he tried to follow the sound, and to his surprise was led to the guest room that the brothers were deposited to on the previous night.

Carefully opening the door Bilbo was greeted with a sight of a ball of blankets on one side of the bed, all of the coverings hogged together to make a little hill.

Craning his neck the hobbit was able to see past it and saw the older of two brothers, Fili if he remembered correctly sitting on the mattress, sunken almost to his waist, with his aunt Mirabel’s old bronze tray on his lap, and an array of wooden instruments with fat blunt handles all around him. He seemed in a good mood, whistling slightly under his breath as he hammered away with a little mallet on the top of his tools, moving them all around the metal. So lost in his work did he appear that the hobbit did not have the heart to pull him away. And he never liked aunt Mirabel’s tray anyways, it was bend, and ugly, and fell on his head at one point. If Fili wanted to do something to it he was more than welcome to.

  
Slinking silently out of the room, and closing the door behind him, Bilbo went back into the kitchen. He would not bother the dwarfs for a bit more, as he still had a few more things to do, and they were clearly preoccupied. Well at least one of them was. With that in mind the hobbit went on cooking. If his memory served him well, and it usually did, Thorin was partial to his chicken clove pie. Well if Thorin liked then so should his nephews reasoned he inside his mind. After all there was not a time when he had served it when it had not gotten praise. And cooking for hobbits meant showing affection for those to whom it was intended. While Bilbo did not know Fili and Kili he liked the buggers and wanted to do something nice for them.

  
Getting the ingredients, and setting up the space in the table Bilbo began creating. Smash the cloves, mix the batter, lightly roast the chicken… Herbs and additional ingredients went in to the mixture, fresh and dried both. Soon the hobbit made the crust of the pie, filled it with a mixture of roasted garlic chicken and cloves, covered it in a layer of paste made from nuts and cheese and settled it into the oven. Nearly immediately delicious smells began whiffing through the kitchen and the hallways, filling the air of Bag End with aromas, and impressions one would get when stepping foot into a beloved grandmother’s house on a holiday. Bilbo opened the oven door and poured a cup-full of melted butter and spices all over the pie, making it sizzle and give off a big cloud of enchanting scents that enveloped his face.

  
The hobbit took a deep breath and smiled, straightening up. He was met with the sight of two dwarfs crowding at the kitchen doorway, Kili still bundled in one of the smaller blankets, and Fili trying to wipe his mouth with the sleeve of his too big tunic as he swallowed the drool that threatened to escape it. Both brothers’ eyes were chained to the oven, and they seemed to be stopping themselves from running to it and eating whatever gave off the heavenly aromas.

  
Smiling at the two Bilbo said “Well don’t just stand there. Sit down; I’ll get you started on breakfast. It’s still early, and the weather has gotten ever colder. In fact I would not be surprised if it started to snow soon”.

As he said all of these things Fili and Kili went to the same chairs they occupied last night and sat down, Kili pulling his legs up on the chair, in order to wrap the blanket around himself, looking for all intent and purpose like a fuzzy egg with a face. The warm off-white color of the throw did nothing to change that impression, and Bilbo, in a fit of happy, placed a big plate of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him first, giving Fili the second plate, also filled to the brim, and finally settling the plate of lightly honeyed cut ham in the middle.

  
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When Fili spotted the deliciousness put in front of him and tore his mind from the heavy smells whiffing through the kitchen he thought to himself that perhaps Kili’s comment about calling the hobbit “Auntie” was not misplaced. He had never in his life smelled something like that, and even his mother had never given them an occasion of food like such. They had grown up mostly on the roads, and camps. Settling into the Blue Mountains did not predispose one’s self to luxuries of a full meal too often, as money was always tight, and it made spreads like the one in front of him ever rarer. Dwarfs loved to eat, and knew good food when they saw it. And what Fili was observing in front of him was undoubtedly good food.

  
With a smile and a cheerful “Good morning Auntie Bilbo!” Kili was already stuffing his cheeks with the eggs, having sneaked one hand out of his wooly shell. Fili’s head snapped towards him at that, and his cheeks reddened, as he snagged a look at their host, seated across from them at his own chair.

“Kili!” he whispered in a harsh tone “Don’t call him that! Master Bilbo is not our auntie!” and to Bilbo “I’m sorry for that Master Bilbo! He just gets excited by food, and you have provided an excellent breakfast. We do not mean any offence” He bowed his head expecting a reprisal and showed Kili’s head down too with a quick snug of his arm.

  
To Fili’s surprise his ears were met with the sound of a roaring laughter and a pounding of a palm on the table top. Pulling his head up with curiosity Fili dared a look at the hobbit. Who at the moment had tears streaming down his face, as one of his hand clutched his stomach, and the other was thumping at the table, making plates clink. Not understanding the source of Bilbo’s merry Fili’s eyes followed the direction of a finger outstretched somewhere in the direction of his brother. Following the digit Fili was not able to hold his own laughter, as it spilled from his mouth.

  
To Fili’s left, still wrapped snuggly in a warm and fluffy white wooly blanket and for all intent and purpose looking like a fuzzy egg sat Kili. With one hand outstretched towards the fork, and another clutching the throw under his chin. His eyes looked sad and his mouth was turned down as he mournfully stared at the remains of his delicious scrambled eggs. The remains that were thrown around the edge of the plate, that had a bid indent in the middle of it. An indent in the shape of a miserable face. Everything that was supposed to be where the hole now was, was clinging desperately to the young dwarf’s face and budding whiskers, dripped down his hair, and a piece of egg was sticking out of one nostril. After a second of hesitation, and frantically trying to hold on, the piece swung out and landed on the table with a sad little splat where it laid and contemplated the cruelty of fates.

  
Unable to hold in his remorse at the face of his defiled breakfast, Kili gave a sniffle. Unable to hold in their merry Fili and Bilbo gave a guffaw and slid under the wooden tabletop while clutching their sides and whimpering


	9. Chapter 9

After breakfast and reassuring Kili that there was still plenty of food for him to enjoy Bilbo was ready to carry on his everyday chores. While the brothers sat at the table, enjoying a pot of tea and a jar of raspberry jam the hobbit had made that summer, he bustled about, cleaning up the morning mess, fixing up the placement of miscellaneous things that made his dwelling neat and tidy, while still being cozy. Through it all Fili and Kili followed him with their eyes, slightly amazed at the quiet efficiency of somebody that size. Not that they were much taller, but still…

  
Kili’s gaze went occasionally traveled to the oven, form which an enticing smell was still pouring off in waves. He had no idea what was in there, but he wanted it. And so, as soon as Bilbo stepped foot outside the now clean kitchen, the young dwarf threw off his blanket, and quickly dashed to the treasure awaiting him in the hot cavern. He was halfway through his journey when the collar of his tunic was seized by a small but strong hand and a wooden spoon landed on his head with a dull thud. Freezing and slowly turning his head Kili saw the calm face of Auntie Bilbo. One of his hands was still clutching his collar and the other held a long wooden spoon, raised precariously to rest on the hobbit’s shoulder.

  
Bilbo raised an eyebrow. Aye, he could see how those three were related for sure now. This exact situation had played out a month after Thorin came to stay with him. And unlike his nephew, one bonk on the head did not stop him. Bilbo had to resort to drastic measures, of grabbing the dwarf’ belt, while whacking his back with the utensil in order to halt him. Finally, after promising the other most of the pie Bilbo was able to subdue him, and settle Thorin back at the table. Now it seemed that the man’s nephew was following in his footsteps. At least the other had more sense.

  
Or so Bilbo thought, until he heard a yowl of pain from the direction of the oven. Whipping his head around he observed Fili, his mane shaking back and fro’ as he tried to stick his entire hand in his mouth in order to cool off the burn from the scorching hot pie. Smiling, and more amused than irritated, Bilbo sat Kili down on the chair he was previously occupying, leaving the dwarf to bundle up once more with a sulking expression; grabbed Fili’s free hand and pulled him to take a seat as well.

  
“Sit tight, do not move, I’ll bring something for pain. And maybe then you can tell me why you’re here at all” said the hobbit as he walked to the sitting room, grabbed his medicine bag and returned shortly. Pulling up a stool, and sitting in front of Fili, Bilbo took his injured hand and placed it on the table. The skin of the fingers was red, and it looked as though the dwarf tried to grab the whole pan, pie and all, without taking any percussion against the scorching heat and flame of the oven. This surprised Bilbo a bit, as he knew that Thorin never neglected the safety procedures when handling heated things. He was still waiting for an answer to his question, but didn’t push it, as they would tell him eventually, and Bilbo was in no hurry.

  
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Fili glanced at his brother while the hobbit was treating his burnt hand. Kili was once more an egg, and Fili couldn’t help but smile at how content his brother looked here. It has been quite a long time since he had observed such an unguarded expression on Kili’s face, and he reveled at the fact that it was still able to appear at all. A sharp sting of cold hit his hand and Fili winced, looking down at his appendage. The skin was still raw, but was now covered with a greenish salve with flecks of a plant in them, and their host (‘Auntie’ – screamed Fili’s mind) was wrapping it in a loose white bandage.

  
“It’s to stave off infection, and to let you recover better. I know you dwarfs use your hands a lot, if not your brains” smiled Bilbo as he glanced up from his hunched position and up at Fili. The mentioned dwarf reddened at that, but before he could retort, was interrupted by the hobbit.

  
“Your uncle, had the same experience as you, you know” said he, looking at Kili, who was eyeing the procedure. Kili’s eyebrows shot up at that. Uncle Thorin? Beat up with a spoon? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to view that moment. A massive smile stretched over his face as Kili’s imagination came to play, and presented him with the possible encounter. In his mind thought Auntie Bilbo was dressed more…”auntily” and uncle Thorin was being his usual frowny self.

  
“And what happened to him?” asked Fili with interest in his voice.

  
“He had had the taste of the same medicine that your brother got. My trusty wooden spoon.” Smirked Bilbo finished with the bandages and clips to hold them together.

“So unless you both would like to get a bit of said medicine…” trailed off the hobbit with an amused expression.

  
“No, no, no!” cried out both dwarfs “We’re fine as we are.”

  
“That’s right! We can wait. I can wait. For whatever smells so very…very…good…and delicious…and…” stumbled Kili over his phrase as a particularly strong burst of aroma flew by his nose.

  
“Well in that case, why don’t you finally tell me why you’re here?” Asked Bilbo, settling back into his own chair.

  
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Fili and Kili, the words bouncing between the two, were finally able to tell the hobbit about their purpose in Shire in general and in Hobbiton in particular. Even more particular in Bag End. After Thorin came back to the Ered Luin, he had told his nephews about his travels, as per their usual request. Only this time, to their immense surprise, the tale was not filled with details of his stays in deserted wind-stewed field, and old run-down shacks in order to save on the rooming expenses, but rather of the comforts and peace he had found in a hobbit hole, not far from Bree. A bit of prying had gotten them a name of said hole, and its owner. Bilbo Baggins. A hobbit with a healer’s disposition, amazing kindness, and food good enough to kill for. Not in so many words and colorful adjectives, but the nephews could read between the lines.

  
Being the adventurous sort that the two were, when it was their time to leave in order to make some more money for the family, and help support their mother, a natural choice for them to take was to head on towards the by now famed hobbit hole of Bag End, and try their luck there. They made their way through the mountains, traveling alongside of them until coming to the Grey Heavens, and crossing the Lune river, passing through tower hills, and finally stepping foot on the grassy hillside of the Shire, yellowed and scarlet with the fall season by then.

  
Often times in the brother’s journey they had to wake up to their water skins being frozen, and frost formed at their hair and clothes, even though they slept close, and bundled in the cloaks and coats as much as they could. Needless to say that by the time a landscape they could recognize from their uncle’s stories came about, they were exhausted, and couldn’t wait to step inside someplace warm and dry.

  
Both dwarfs were resilient, and this was far from their first journey, as they had grown up traveling along with a caravan of their homeless brethren, and many times witnessed the harshness that awaited unprepared travelers. It had, after all been a long time since dwarfs had to travel far and in such numbers, and it had taken quite some time for the race of Aule to relearn the skills, necessary to survive outside the comforts of a familiar dwelling. And with so much of the population, that had never ventured out of Erebor before; the journey had not been made easy.

  
Fili still remembered the struggle of the first years, as his mother and uncle tried to provide enough food, warmth and safety to both boys, Kili nothing but a babe, and himself just a toddler. He remembered the sucking hunger in his gut, and the tears his mother had shed at not being able to find enough unsoiled clothes to keep his brother clean, and comfortable. And he remembered uncle coming back to them with more and more tiredness settling into his eyes, and the way his back hunched when he would sit next to the fire, with his sister under one arm, Fili under the other, and Kili asleep on his lap, suckling at Thorin’s finger, as there was nothing else to suckle on.

  
When their uncle came back this time there was only physical tiredness in his body. His eyes were bright, and his stories held more cheer then either brother had remembered. He spoke of a wonderful being that had healed him, nursed him to health, and without whose aid they would be one uncle short. Thorin had talked about Shire, and even though he still compared it to the lands within and around the Lonely Mountain, he saw the prosperity and wealth of the acreages of hobbits, and Fili saw the peacefulness settle into his eyes.

  
It was after those stories that they had decided that trying their luck in Hobbiton would be worth the risk of travel, and it was the closest possibly profitable source of work from Ered Luin anyways. Fili was on his way to becoming a master engraver, and had his trusty set of tools with him, made by their uncle for his birthday a few years back, while Kili had already perfected most of the inlay techniques that were known to their people. Together they were able to create works of art, functional pieces, jewelry and decorations for house, horse, and hose. They had even brought some of their completed work with them, in order to be able to prove their skills. After hearing that Bilbo demanded a demonstration and Kili slinked out of the kitchen and came back a minute later with a satchel.

  
Placing the parcel on the table, the young dwarf unwrapped it with a flourish and the hobbit’s eyes landed on the most exquisite pieces of engraving and inlay that he seen in his life. Not that he had seen a lot, but he was sure of his good taste, and what Bilbo saw was impeccably done.

  
On the soft leather of the wrappings laid several items. One of the was a small dagger, with an engraving etched deep into the metal, yet not harming the strength or durability of it. The grooves twined and twirled, starting at the hilt, and winding their way down the blade, making it appear as though a gently wind was blowing all over the metal, shimmering and tingling the air as it passed by. The handle was covered with a leather grip, and the guard twirled around, coming out at two sharp points at either side, where a small bit of a different metal was visible. Bringing the weapon closer to his eyes, after a brief confirming look at the brothers, Bilbo’s breath hitched at the immaculate and miniscule work done to it. From the distance he was unable to see, but up close…All over the guard, from thin to thickest part there were runes, inlayed with a darker metal then the rest of the form, formed together in the unimaginably tiny grooves and trenches, complimenting the engraving on the blade perfectly, and even stretching to meet and complete it at the hilt, where the blade met its setting.

  
Placing the blade back on the cloth, the hobbit looked at the assortment of rings, ear pieces, clasps and necklaces that littered the surface. Silver, bronze, and copper. Stone, and wood. Bone and claw. Bilbo eyed a particular item. It was a ring made from an off-white bone, with an inlay of bright copper in it, formed to make a design of an ivy vine, trailing its way through the bone with an ease of a live plant.

  
Seeing the hobbit’s eyes lingering in that particular piece of their work, Fili and Kili exchanged glanced and smiled. It seemed they knew what to give the hobbit in return for their first few days of stay.

  
“Here Auntie” said Kili, grabbing the ring, and dropping into the hobbit’s palm. “This is a gift from us, to pay for our stay so far.”

  
“Pay for your stay? What…” Bilbo was momentarily confused as his eyes flickered from one smiling dwarf to another “No!” he yelled indignantly, making the brothers flinch back.

“You are family of a dear friend, and you think I will take pay from you? Why I have never felt more insulted in my life!” Cried the distressed Halfling, as he continue to pace up and down the kitchen, slipping the ring on in the process.

“If you are to stay here, and let me tell you, you are! You will repay me by helping around the house and being here for dinner, just as your uncle does.” Stated Bilbo firmly, with his hands planted on his hips and staring down two dwarfs, who were too stunned to say anything. Finally Kili woke up from his stupor and tried to reason with their host.

  
“But Bilbo… we don’t know how long we will stay, it can be months. And we do not want to be an inconvenience to you” he said lightly, bowing his head, and averting his eyes from the small but intimidating figure in front of him.

  
“Bullocks! You already call me Auntie” huffed Bilbo with a slight redness to his cheeks, from excitement or embarrassment, he was not certain. “May as well treat you like family. Although why you came up with a name like that for me I do not know…”

  
At those words both dwarf’s eyebrows shot up to disappear into their hairlines, and their eyes widened to impossible proportions. They were declared family… Did the hobbit know what he did? Was he aware that words like these were forever in the dwarven community, and were not to be taken lightly at any circumstances. By confirming their relation, Bilbo was making acknowledging them and the fact that they were now his. His nephews.

  
Huge grins split their faces as Fili and Kili leapt from their seats and wound their arms around the stunned hobbit.

  
“Thank you…Auntie” whispered Fili into Bilbo’s ear as he nuzzled his head into the hair smelling of lavender and daisies.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys spoil me! So many reviews in less then a week! I want you all to know that I appreciate it immensely, and will continue to deliver on a semi regular basis of at least 2 chapters a week. Thank you!

Fili and Kili were received favorably by the hobbits of Hobbiton in the next few days, as Bilbo had already introduced another dwarf to them, and he had turned out to be the best blacksmith these places has seen in a long time. And even though a lot of the people were disappointed that the new dwarfs couldn’t fix their plows and hoes, the brothers were still able to find a small number of clients.

One fine Sunday morning Bilbo woke the two up with insistence, fed them a hearty breakfast, and towed them out of Bag End, only giving them enough time to brush their hair until it looked halfway decent, grab their wares, and the little folding table that was found in one of Bilbo’s many cupboards. Confused, Fili decided to find out what was happening.

“Auntie, what is going on? It’s not even time for first breakfast, never mind second, the sun is just up, and it is hardly the weather to go door to door, look at the speed of that wind!” Cried the dwarf as they were being carted off in the unknown direction. Bilbo shot him a sly glance from beneath his curls, and smiled.

“We aren’t going door to door today, Fili. In fact, if today goes well, then no such practice shall be needed from either of you for quite a while.” Answered Bilbo, as he continued walking in his brisk pace, heading south from Bag End. “Do you remember how I said that my mother Belladonna was a Took?” Not waiting for an answer he continued “Well, because she was a Took, I’m also considered somewhat of a Took, no matter what every Baggins out there says. Now, as a Took, I am allowed audience to the head of Took family, without waiting for long amounts of time, as is the usual custom with such important matters. I don’t use that right often; usually there is simply no occasion, beyond wishing someone from that side of the family a Happy Birthday, or such. But! I have used it now. And if it goes well, then, oh my! I hope it goes well!”

Fili looked as Kili who was staring at Bilbo with a slightly opened jaw. That was a very very quickly-said speech. 

“If what goes well, Auntie Bilbo?” asked Fili with an exasperated huff. 

“Didn’t I say?” questioned Bilbo with a surprised expression on his face. “We are going to Tookbank, to see the head of the family. If, no, when, he likes your work, he will commission from you, and you will be set with both work, and reputation. The Tooks despite being considered rather…strange at times, are still the most well-off hobbit clan in the entire Shire, they hold quite a big amount of influence.” Finished the hobbit, as they carried on walking through hills, and field; slowly leaving behind Hobbiton.

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Tookbank was still ways away, and that was the reason Bilbo woke his pseudo-nephews so early; they had to be at the Took family hole by the time elevenses were finished, as that was the brother’s best bet of being looked at favorably. Old Took was quite amiable after a good meal, like most hobbits tended to be, and would be much more agreeable to the idea of commissioning work from dwarfs than on any other different time. 

And time was most certainly of the essence. Bilbo knew it was a matter of days before the winter came, and spread its cloak upon the towns of Shire, bringing with it frost, snow, ice and cold. It has not been too long since the Fell Winter occurred, and the hobbits still remembered the wolves that came from the Dim Hills and the Far Mountains, the North and South Downs. Hungry and angry the packs tore through Shire leaving broken doors and windows, slaughtered cattle, and trails of crimson in their wake. It was only through the help of the rangers that not more than a few dozens of Halflings were slain. Even still…a lot of families lost their members to the fangs and claws of the grey shadows that haunted the night, and the Baggins family was one of them. 

Bilbo’s mother has ventured out of the house in order to help their neighbor give birth that night. It was a premature one, and she had not arranged for an escort, as had become custom in those dark cold months. His father was away on business, and Bilbo himself was in bed, sick with the flu. Belladonna had reasoned that she would be back soon, and her son wouldn’t even know of her absence as he slept deep, and she would be swift. Alas the Valar had not smiled on her that time, as Bilbo was awoken by the warm, but shaking hands of his father, waking him up from his slumber, and telling him that mommy would not be coming back again. 

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Kili thought about what Bilbo said as they drew closer to another hobbit settlement, and decide to ask something.

“But why now, we were fine with doing door to door, we’re used to it. In the Blue Mountains that’s how most of our work went.” Said the younger dwarf coming closer to Bilbo, trying to avoid the mud on the road as much as he could. 

“Because winter is coming, and I would be damned if I let you two wander about in the cold, knocking on doors!” said the hobbit with determination. “With this order, you would be able to stay in, the clients that heard about the deal would come to us, and I would not have to…” here he stumbled on his words.  
“You would not have to what?” prompted Fili, coming in at Bilbo’s other side. 

The Halfling kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead. “I would not have to watch helplessly and mourn again.” Bilbo knew that the chances of the wolves coming from the hills again were very small. But still... He had absolutely no desire to risk it, safe as the Shire was. 

The hobbit continued walking, letting his previous statement hang in the air. “Let the clients see that even an important family like Tooks is so satisfied with you, that it is commissioning your work. Let them see that you are worth the travel, and the expense spend on your wares. Your work in unique, it is beautiful, and rare, and most of all new. We hobbits are set in our ways, that is true, but we have an appreciation for the finer things in life, and from what I have seen, you two are able to create them. Play your cards right, and no family in Shire will see it fit to entertain guests without having a piece of your work on display, be it a ring or a tray. And even though there is not much need for weaponry here, you will undoubtedly find appreciation for it at the halls of the Tookbank Hill.” Bilbo paused and looked at two dwarfs still trailing him as they neared the said Hill. 

“Fili, Kili.” At the serious tone that was saturating his words, both brothers stopped and straightened up, looking at Bilbo with calm eyes. The hobbit allowed himself a smile. “I got to know your uncle, and I am getting to know you. There is a lot of passion in all of you, and it shows when you work. Be it Thorin in his forge, putting his all in the hammer falling hard on the anvil, creating things that will help with either peace or war; you, Fili, as you measure each hit with a precision that I have never seen in anyone, knowing that it will make something bigger than a few dents in metal or stone, that it will make beauty, and function, and bring joy; or you, Kili, who spend so much time, perfecting each line, and groove, so that even if one was to look at your work from a mile, they would be able to see its worth and quality.” 

Bilbo came closer to them and put his hands on the brothers’ shoulders. “All of you have an amazing talent, and I would like the passion that you show in your work to be seen by others, and received by them for what it’s worth. That being the highest praise and price, they have given to and for anything before.” 

“I believe that you are capable of all that and much more, and today, you just have to show some of that fire you both have in the Tookbank Hill, and believe me when I say, that it will be one of the first of the many prosperous deals you will make here in Shire.” At those words the hobbit squeezed the dwarfs’ shoulders and let go, turning around, in order to continue walking. He was stopped by two bodies softly but firmly winding themselves around his, and two solid chests, covered in fur lined coats, pressing against his back. Slightly frozen cheeks rested in each of his neck’s crooks, and hands wound around his front. Bilbo looked slightly down, to see the blond and russet heads buried in his shoulders.

“Thank you, Auntie” chorused two voices somewhere from under his chin, as he was squeezed and then let go. 

“No worries, you two. Now let’s, hurry; we have to get there at a precise time, and it is almost here” said Bilbo as he smiled and carried on moving his feet, hearing the quickened footsteps of dwarven boots behind him.

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The audience at Tookbank Hill went without a hitch, both brothers brimming with confidence in both themselves, and their skills, as they presented their wares to the happily sated head of the Took family. The old hobbit had just had his fill of a hearty fish soup and a mushroom casserole, was in the process of drinking tea with cakes, and existed in the best mood of the whole day. He had even got up from his seat at the head of the large wooden table in order to observe the presented items better, and left the little folded table with a lot less jewelry, no dagger, a few less spoons and knives, that were all taken as samples of their work, in order to show it to the other family members. 

Soon enough the mentioned family members filled into the room and the Fili and Kili were slightly overwhelmed by the amount of hobbits in one place. Luckily Bilbo was there, and was able to diffuse the rush a bit saying that the brothers were accepting commissions, for new items, and then proceeded to take orders for said commissions along with coins for them. 

An old matron of the family, Grammy Took, spend a good 10 minutes looking at a particular medallion, made of copper with an inlay of green malachite in it and mumbled something. One of the youngsters nearby translated that Grammy wanted to buy it, as the color of it was the same as her hair when she was young, and her eyes when they were still sharp. 

Both brothers heard the mentioned translation, and with a bow and a flourish worthy of kings, presented it to the aged lady for free. She had blushed and stuttered, and for the first time in many many years a shy little smile broke through her aged face. She smiled, crinkling her eyes, patted both dwarfs on the cheeks and proceeded to shuffle out of the room, pausing to stop by the head of the family and mumble something in his ear. As she had done that, Bilbo allowed a relieved slack to come over his body.

Turning to Kili and Fili, who were now busy with folding the table, and packing away the empty clothes the wares were resting on before, he said “That was old Grammy Took. She is over a hundred years old, and despite not being the head of the family, holds immense authority. That you managed to make her like you just landed you a job.” With a proud grin, Bilbo was almost bouncing in place. His urge was stopped by his ingrate politeness and the fact that the Head was now coming over to them with a pleased smile on his portly face.

“Bilbo, my dear nephew! You have truly a gift for bringing in talent from lands beyond.” Said the hobbit as he neared the trio. Fili kicked Kili who was a bit too slow at straightening up, and they both smiled at their possible patron.

“Truly fortune has been good to us this time, especially in time for my daughter’s wedding. I would like to commission you boys to make me a set of silverware for a hundred persons, by spring time. Full set, not just plates. I want plates, bowls, salad plates, dessert plates, forks, knives, spoons, tiny spoons, long spoons, fish knives, fish forks: the whole hallabazoo!” Motioned the excited hobbit to the dwarfs, who stood in front of him; with their eyes slowly getting rounder and rounder, and smiles frozen on their faces, until Bilbo delivered a sharp poke at Fili’s side, who then repeated it with Kili. 

To their surprise Took was not done yet. “I also want wedding gifts; small things, trinkets really, make them rings, and bonnets, and lockets, but enough for a hundred once again. I shall provide you with money for the materials, but I expect all of the receipts and a monthly missive, regarding progress. It must be done by April, or everything will be ruined. I expect the best quality of course.” With these words being his final, the head of the Took family, slowly turned on his heels, which has taken some time to accomplish, and rumbled out of the room. 

Bilbo looked at the brothers who were still standing where they were, eyes slightly glazed over. It looks like they were counting the profit that this deal would bring them, and the hobbit was very happy for them. It was truly lucky that old Grammy Took was there, and had persuaded her grandson to make the arrangement for such a large order. 

“Well boys. You have just got yourself a deal. Shall we go home and celebrate?” said Bilbo, putting his hands on his hips, and leaning onto one leg. He was answered with a shout and a smashing force of two bodies, as Fili and Kili sprung up on him, laughing and shouting, ignoring his pleas for silence and decorum, too happy to care for it. They have just made their first proper deal outside the Blue Mountains; it was a deal worthy of praise, and they were commissioned for such a large order, too!

Needless to say, that the hobbit and the dwarves were all quite content to journey back home. It was starting to slowly snow, and fat fluffy clumps of white were falling from the sky. The clouds were marring the sunlight from coming through, but a soft dim light filtered all around as the hills of Shire slowly turned silver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Chapter 10! More coming soon, tell me if you have any questions, concerns or anything really.   
> Note: I have already decided what dwarf shows up next, don’t worry Fili and Kili will be present at that moment. Hint: it’s not Thorin. Guess who it is first, and be mentioned in the next chapter of Last Homely Hole! Have a good time, and most importantly…REVIEW! Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 Ladies and gents! And I have to say…one! One person has made the correct guess as to whom the next dwarf to show up will be and that was: Ruolumen from Ao3. Of course all of the ones you mentioned will also be making an appearance, but not just yet. And on the final note: yes. Thorin will be back, but not for a bit longer; be patient 

Nori has spent a lot of time on the road even before the fall of Erebor. As a young lad his days were occupied by conversing with the visiting travelers and merchants. He has learned the trade of barter and caught up quickly on what was and wasn’t worth bartering for. Nori was able to smell the value of certain things, be it jewels, silks, or, as most often was the case, information. And after the reign of the dragon came he had not gone with the majority of his people, but rather slinked out with a company of a few more daring folks heading north, towards Grey Mountains and Weathered Heach.

He spends a few years there, traveling all over the ridge and making contacts, gathering more information, and selling it to those who are willing to pay. Slowly, year by year, his network spreads, and Nori finds himself as a knot in a complicated weave, not at all different from those his brother used to make sitting by the fire of their rooms when they were younger. He hasn’t seen either of them in decades, and thinks often that maybe tomorrow…perhaps the day after that, he will get up, pack his bag, and go towards the Blue Mountains in search of his remaining family. But he never does, and more years pass.

Travel has taken Nori to the West most point of the Grey Mountains, close to Mount Gundabad, the Orc stronghold, and he has to take a boat to Rivet Hoarwell in order to get out unscathed. It takes him almost a week, but he reaches the Last Bridge, and finally sets his feet on the Great East Road that leads to the Blue Mountains. On his way the dwarf heard about an interesting prospect. According to rumors, circulating in Bree, there was now an increased presence of dwarfs around Shire; the land of Hobbits that has never really seen any activity from anyone or anything. 

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Bilbo looked at the state of his pantry and decided that it needed a thorough refilling. He was completely out of fresh meat, his cheeses were gone, there was a scant number of marinated vegetables, and less then half of a potato sack. 

“I need to re-evaluate my expenses…” muttered the hobbit as he stood in the middle of the small room. Feeding three was different then feeding one, or even two, and even though it would not put a strain on Bilbo to feed 10, as he was left quite a wealth by his parents and a few aunts, he needed to make a different plan for his trips to the market. 

Getting back into the main part of the house the hobbit went to his room, dressed into his more presentable clothes, and gathered his bag of coins. The grocer would deliver, and so would the butcher, but he might have to haggle with the wine-hobbit a bit. Shimmying into his wool coat Bilbo picked up his sturdy basket and got ready for a day at the market. 

“Fili! Kili!” he yelled into the house

“What is it Auntie?” asked Kili as he came through the door into the hobbits bedroom still carrying a silver plate with a bit of copper wire half-inlayed into it in his hand. 

“Ah, Kili.” Smiled Bilbo as he tightened the belt “Listen, I’m going to the market, it appears my pantry is a bit empty at the moment, so I need to make arrangements to have more things delivered. Did you need me to get you anything?”

Kili’s face got a bit glum as he listened to the other man. He and his brother had been living on Bilbo’s charity for a month and a half now. They ate his food, drunk his ale and wines, used whatever they wanted in his house, and yet they have not repaid him at all. Yes, Bilbo said that they were family, and Kili fully embraced the notion, being happy to take anything that their Auntie made them, and ask for seconds. But…at the same time he could not help but see that it was taking a bit of a tall on their host. Bag End got steadily less neat then when they first came in, and as much as Bilbo tried to keep it clean and organized, the presence of two young rowdy dwarfs was noticeable regardless. And now it looked like they ate Auntie out of house and home…

“No Auntie…We’re good, thank you” Kili forced himself to smile at the other. “You go on, enjoy yourself. Maybe you can get a few more books?” He knew by now the love that Bilbo held for those leafy constructions, and honestly couldn’t understand it, but oh well. To each his own. And if it got him out of the house for a bit longer, then maybe the plan that started brewing in his head would actually old a chance of being successful. 

“Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll be off” Smiled Bilbo once more, an went outside, whistling a merry tune, as he trotted among the soft white hills that looked quite like piles of sparkling sugar, ready to be mixed into a pie. 

He did not see two shadows slink out of the house after him, and blend in behind those very hills he was admiring.

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Nori, being a dwarf was a lover of all things pretty and rare. Be they gems or jewelry, or an exceptionally made weapon, exquisite food, or a rare wine: as long as it had value in his eyes, Nori would crave it, and want it. So, when walking around the market district of Shire, not far from a place called Hobbiton, that according to rumors housed the dwarfs somewhere in it, he saw a pretty thing he wanted it. 

The pretty thing was at least a head shorted then him; with a head full of curls the color of ambers and a smile on his face. The hobbit was dressed in a warm looking wooly coat that went pretty well with his rosy complexion, tan trousers, and had a basket, covered with a napkin in his hands. Why Nori hasn’t seen a sight so lovely in quite a while.

Being young and handsome by dwarven standards Nori has never had a problem finding bed partners and he never stuck to just one kind either. Lads or lasses didn’t matter to him, but beauty and a spark did. The dwarf had been with plenty of fellows, and ladies, but still he had his preferences. And the fair-haired hobbit in front of him fit just in. So, Nori puffed his chest, straightened his beard and eyebrow braids a bit, tugged down his coat and strutted towards his target.

Unfortunately for the amorous fella, he was intercepted within a few steps of reaching his goal. A pair of hands pulled his coat tails hard and he was tinkered behind a grocer’s cart, who could only stare in wonder at the proceedings around him, before a coin glittered in the sun, and his face disappeared on the other side of his wares. 

A second later the first pair of hands was joined by a second smaller one, quite professionally flying over his pockets, nooks and crannies, pulling out his knives, pins, needles, bottles, and small stashes of coin. The last straw was when the grabby hands reached into his hair, and then the first pair put his own dagger to his throat.

“You’ve been a naughty dwarf” was hissed into his ear as a body pressed into his. “Wouldn’t you say so brother dearest?”

“Oh absolutely” answered a slightly deeper voice, as the second pair of hands swiftly turned his head to face it in the direction of the pretty hobbit he was intent on dragging to his bed later. 

“I think that he decided to take a bite of something that doesn’t belong to him” continued the first voice, discontent clear in its notes.

“I think, little brother, that this here…gammer, wanted to take a bite out of our dear Auntie. And we can’t have that can we?” supported him the second, deeper voice, filled with false honey.

At this Nori had to blink. He already accepted he was being robbed. It happened a few times in his career, and nobody was infallible, he knew that. Oh he would sell this prick to his pride at a steep price, as soon as he was released, but this situation? This was new.   
It was not the first time he was being assaulted by family members of his bed partners, but it was the first time he was assaulted by family of someone he hadn’t even spoken to! 

“Now look here lads, I ain;t never seen that Auntie of yours. I planned to spend the night in the tight burrow of that there hobbit, and meant no offence to you what so ever” grumbled out the dwarf. 

Harsh hands grabbed his coat, and spun him around, making him face, to his immense confusion and surprise a pair of young dwarfs with murderous expressions on their façades. 

The darker one looked truly furious, while the lighter haired one had a frozen smirk glued to his lips. 

“Now you see, my vile fella, that there hobbit, is our Auntie. And we, that being my brother and I, love him oh so very much. We love Auntie, we protect him, and we do not let molten parasites like you near him.” Said the taller dwarf with the smirk becoming cold as ice, and painfully reminding Nori of someone he has seen before. The steely gaze of the second dwarf, and his appearance itself was also tugging at his memory pretty hard, but he just couldn’t place it!

“Lads…that is a hobbit. And a male one as well. I dunno what is wrong with your eyes, but clearly something is, for there is no way that he” and at this Nori pointed a finger at the figure, currently bend over, helping a small hobbit child wrap a hanky around a bleeding knee “ can be your Auntie!” finished the disgruntled dwarf. 

“Oh, but he is.” Assured him the shorted lad, as his expression grew stormier by the moment “And if we see you anywhere near him again, believe me; the punishments of old will be soft touches of a lover, compared to what we will do to you.”

With this the other dwarf thought Nori sufficiently scared off, released his grip on the other’s coat, and with the same frozen smile, pointed him at the small pile of his possessions, nestled at the corner of the cart. 

“We trust that a repeat talk will not be necessary Master Tangar?” asked the blond, as he straightened Nori’s hair. Nori angrily beat the hands away from his mane, and glared at the offender.

“Clear as a polished diamond” grumbled the dwarf, gathering his bearing and watching as the younger one run towards his “Auntie” and proceeded to grab his basket, filled by now with several purchases. The hobbit blinked at his nephew in surprise and then proceeded to laugh, and ruffle his hair. Nori saw the young’un redden and try to tug his hair away from the smoothing fingers of the Halfling, but be unsuccessful. Desire coursed still through the dwarf with every glance he threw the fair-haired beauty, but the cold press of a dagger to his jugular turned his head back to the taller tangar at his side. 

“Now we may be young Master Tangar, but we are not fools. If you come near him again, we will be least of your worries. But our Uncle, the reason we have an Aunt” gestured the dwarf at the smiling hobbit, that was now loading his nephew with goods “will not only have your hide, but will have it on display of the entire court, as an illustration of the dwarven laws of possession and familiarity, and the consequence of breaking, or even attempting to break them. He will make sure your name is shamed until your great-grand-grandchildren will feel shame upon the fact of your relation. That is if you will be able to sire any offsprings after a meeting with him ofcourse. So with that in mind, do take your things, and conduct your business, and pray that we will decide to keep our mouths shut of this endeavor. “

The golden-mane dwarf smiled once more, his grin full of teeth and darker promise, and went around the cart, joining the rest of his family on a nice day out to the market, taking a part of his brother’s load, and embracing their short companion with one arm. Said companion squeaked slightly, and proceeded to whack the taller one on his head with a wooden spoon, that appeared out of nowhere in a second’s notice. 

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Nori spent a lot of time on the road. He had kept company of dwarf, men, and even an occasional something he knew not the species of. He had his fair share of threats, and grudges. Nori was an expert on covering his behind, and making sure it got away still attached to him, and with a relatively little damage too. Nori had a network of informants who constantly supplied him with gossip and news of people from the beaches of Forlindor to the roots of Iron Hills, from Carm Dum to the last markets of Suth Harad. He knew the prices of silk and where was best to buy bear if in a city of men. He knew the angle of a bow one had to give in order to show the recipient of it either the respect or deep loathing, depending on the day of the week, and the position of the sun. 

And most of all he knew the face of his King, and his kin. He knew the furrow of the brow right before punishment was dished out at the unfortunate subordinate, and he remembered well the frozen smile on Old Kings face, as he greeted the elven King in his hall, inclining his head just short of a grievous insult. And when his memory finally saw it fit to show him those glimpses of the past, the first thing Nori did, was grab his things, steal a pony and some supplies, and rush out of Shire. 

For there was only one dwarf that had nephews approximately this age, with the features of his late ruler. And if he found out even a hint of Nori’s thoughts towards the delectable little Auntie… Well, let’s just say that Mount Doom was supposed to be really pretty this time of year…  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 dear readers! And for this one I thought I should show the usually unsung protective side of Fili and Kili, directed at someone other than each other. And we all know how kids are protective of their mothers, and try to warn off all the unsuitable men, if an occasion arises. So I made then warn off Nori. Who according to all sources I was able to find, was a rather shady fellow….   
> Regardless! Thank you all so much for all the feedback you guys are providing, I am so very very very (Very very very) happy to have it, and to continue providing more stuff for you to read.   
> Thank you once again, wait for the next chapter, it should be done sometime this week, wherever inspiration strikes me, and please, please, please REVIEW!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 Ladies and Gents. A break from the problems of the world, and an evening filled with familial affection and peace. Enjoy :-)

It was Afteryule and the winter was as harsh as gets in the Shire. Even though it was only time for tea, the windows in Bag End showed nothing but endless darkness behind their glass, filled at every inch with the garlands and designs of frost’s artwork. Intricate patterns that spidered all over the windowpane and helped to contains small amounts glittering snow in the corners of metalwork made the light reflecting from the lamps and the fireplace shine all the more brighter and warmer. 

This was not the first winter that Bilbo has seen and it was most certainly not the harshest. But in quite a few years it was the most comfortable that he has been in the accursed season.

The hobbit sat in front of the fireplace in his favorite armchair, covered in Thorin’s knitted blanket, with an old tome on his lap, bathing in the warmth provided by the fire. The dwarfs little side table was moved closer to his own seat, and a mug of warn spicy wine stood on it, accompanied by a plateful of tiny sugar cookies that he had made earlier today with Fili’s help. 

The sun-kissed dwarf had to both their surprise a talent for baking, that had never before seen the light of day, and Bilbo was only happy to show him the wonders of making sugary treats. Fili picked up quickly on the small intricacies of the process, and on their second batch had completely taken over the process, only needing Bilbo’s help in the general sense of mixing the batter, and prepping the ingredients. Kili on the other hand was banned from the process entirely… 

The younger dwarf had, after 5 minutes in front of the stove, managed to resolve a perfectly fine piece of chicken into a smoldering piece of coal, and Bilbo didn’t even know that his oven knew how to roar out flames, harsher then those of Thorin’s forge. But, apparently it could under Kili’s tender care, and Fili was forced to run outside with a bucket, get snow, and then dump it all over his slightly singed brother and whatever remained of the dinner. 

The brothers were forced to clean up the mess, and Kili was forever banned from cooking in Bilbo’s kitchen. 

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Fili and Kili have for a while now taken over the majority of the cleaning in their home. Kili was feeling guilty over the fact that they were freeloading, and Fili was in agreement with his brother. If they couldn’t repay their Aunt with treasures, they would do so with labor.

And so Fili was now charged with the tasks of cleaning the floors and windows, while Kili took over the dusting and polishing of the furniture. Both dwarves were taller then the hobbit and were able to reach places that often evaded him. 

It seemed that having two tall helpers was beneficial to the state of his hobbit hole, thought Bilbo, as he observed the speed at which everything was done. He was truly very appreciative over the brother’s initiative, and left only the laundry and cooking duties to himself. Which was fine for everyone as the dwarfs did not want to touch the laundry, and were not able to cook. 

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So this cold day, with the sun already set behind the hills, Bilbo was sitting in his armchair, enjoying the smells of clean that waffed through his home, the softness of the knitted blanket, and the weight of the old book. As he sat there quietly, a noise attracted his attention. Not a minute later two snow covered dwarfs fell into the room laughing. 

“Auntie! The path in front of the door is swept and Fili made a fence to hold off the majority of the snow away from the doors” reported Kili as he tried to shrug off his white clamped coat. 

“Aye, I can’t say that it will hold all of the snow off, but at least we’ll be able to open the door come morning” agreed Fili getting out of his own wet clothes. 

Bilbo smiled and thanked the dwarfs, getting up from his chair. Quickly both of them were down to their underclothes, sitting in front of the fire, cuddles under some blankets. They turned their eyes at Bilbo who just returned from the cleaning room, where he was hanging their garments to dry, and was now carrying a small tray. A bottle of spiced warm wine, and cookies, poppy seed rolls with custard cream, and a bowl of sugared sour cream made its way on the floor next to the brothers, who gleefully dug in. 

Settling back into his chair the hobbit looked over the picture in front of him, and felt a peaceful mood settle over him. It felt quite a bit like it did when he was a young hobbit, and his parents sat in this very room, with him on the floor, reading one of his mother’s healing book, as she knitted something, and explained to him the properties of herbs and plants, and his father puffed his pipe, a book on his lap. The thought brought a smile to his face, and an idea to his mind.

“Say Fili, Kili…” started the hobbit a bit unsure of himself. What if they wouldn’t want to have anything to do with what he had in mind? And would just scuff at his offer…

“What is it Auntie?” easily said Fili, as he munched on his poppy seed roll.

“I was just wondering if… well, if you two would like to learn a bit about herbs and plants, and what they can be used for…”replied the hobbit as he looked away from the dwarfs and towards the bunches of plants hanging on the walls, some ready for use, some still drying, and some that still needed work to be done on them, in order for the full potential to be reached.

“We’d love to!” answered Kili, as he shuffled closer to his Auntie’s chair and stared up at the hobbit with curious eyes. Following his brother’s example Fili di the same.

“Would these be the kind of herbs that you use in order to heal others then?” Asked the fair-haired dwarf.

“Yes, exactly these, and others, used for different things, ailments and hurts” nodded Bilbo with enthusiasm. “Here, look at this here book” said he pulling out a big tome from under the armchair. It was the length of a man’s forearm, and the thickness of two regular books. The cover was aged leather, with metal bindings at the corners, and a clasp to hold it closed. “It was passed down to me by my mother, and she received it from her grandfather. It’s a treasure of my family, the Took side at least, and she was lucky enough to have gained it as inheritance.” Said Bilbo, as he glided his hand over the old book.

“She just brought it home, after leaving for two days in order to attend a funeral of her grandfather, an old Took fellow. She carried it by herself all the way from Tookbank, put it down and told me that starting that day my education will get a lot better and a lot harder.” Here the hobbit smiles as he looked off into the distance “I spend days pouring over this here beasty. I would copy passages, and then go out into the hills and the woods, and try to find the plants mentioned in here, and when I did, if I did, then I would try to make the remedies they were used for. Let’s just say that it took a while before your Auntie was able to make even a simple burn salve. And that’s considered to be the easiest thing to make in the whole book! With only 10 ingredients too.” Finished the hobbit as he looked down at the dwarfs sitting at his feet. Both of them had fascinated expressions, and Kili was in the process of slowly curling up into his by now familiar fluffy egg cocoon. 

“Well how long did it take you to go through the whole thing?” asked Fili with interest as he eyed the book with trepidation. 

“Hmm, well I was a diligent student; my mother was a great teacher, and the hills around us are filled with plants. I think it took me a few weeks to read through the book, and at least a decade to learn all of the recipes in it.” Pondered Bilbo as he recalled his endless evenings spend over the yellowed parchment of the pages.

“Here, take a look” said the hobbit as he opened one of the market pages. The whole book was filled with pieces of fabric of different colors stuck between certain pages, some colors repeating here and there, others being completely different form the rest. The page that was opened in front of them was market with a red tag, and situated on it were drawing of a few stages of grinding, mixing, and watering a red colored powder, and ten a very accurate drawing of a salve with the same color being applied to a loosely bandages arm. The drawing was made on a newer piece of parchment, and tucked between the pages. 

“Who drew this?” asked Kili as he peered at the drawing, interested in the bold strokes of the charcoal on the page.

“It was your uncle actually” smiled Bilbo “He saw this book, and I showed him some pages. Told him that it was used in healing him as well. He then asked which balms and creams were used exactly, and after I showed him, did little illustrations for all of them. I think there are about ten here in total. Some for burns, others for fever, brakes, pulled muscles, and other hurts as well. He was very enthusiastic about it, and it took him about a month worth of evening in order to be satisfied.” Finished the male, as he tweaked his fingers over the different bookmarks. 

It was then that the brothers noticed that a few of them had a little tune for “T” on the top of then, drawn with ink, and settled with wax, in hope of further preservation.

Fili glanced at his brother, seeing that he also notice the little runes. 

“Go on then Auntie” Kili prompted “teach us dwarfs the art of healing so that we may be of use other then sweeping your floors and dusting your books!” said he with a wild gesture of his arms, that send the blanket off his shoulders and onto the floor. 

Bilbo laughed as he started to explain properties of this or that herb, patiently waiting for them to understand and answering questions. As they all settled into a peaceful conversation, he glanced at the little book marks, some market with a dwarvish “T” and felt a strange pull in his chest. 

He glanced at Kili, never stopping his words, and carrying on answering their questions; and saw another dwarf in his place. With the same wild hair, darker then his nephew’s, longer and with more braids, but never the less oh so similar. He looked in Fili’s eyes, and saw Thorin’s glancing at him, as he sat on a chair in his kitchen, hunched slightly over his drawing while Bilbo cooked, and bustled about the space, filling the house with aromas of upcoming dinner. He looked at the two at his feet, and couldn’t help but wish that there were three, sitting all together in the living room of Bag End. 

Thorin with another burn from the day at the forge, that Bilbo would bandage, and grumble at the dwarf to be careful later. And the boys would be there as well, crafting their wonderful items, the tiny instruments so tiny and delicate in their hands. And Bilbo would settle down in his chair, and talk to all of them, tell them of the nonsense gossip of the Shire: who got married, who had another child, what travelers pulled through the market. 

And when he woke up he would be greeted not only by the snores of the two brothers coming from their room at the end of the hall, but by a light rumbling coming from a room next to his, as Thorin was up, and getting ready for work. 

And in his head Bilbo Baggins suddenly imagined a crystal clear picture of what life would be like with Thorin and the brothers if they were to stay in Hobbiton altogether. And he couldn’t find any fault in that picture.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

In the caves of the Blue Mountains a dwarf sat on his bed, back for the day, sitting heavily on a thin mattress in his room. His mind was far away, as it traveled over the ridges of the Mountains, and the rivers and hills that separated him from the land of the hobbits and the one hobbit hole that had become so very familiar to him in the months he had stayed there. 

Thorin’s fingers slowly swept a few dust flakes off the piece of paper on his lap. Smudged lines of charcoal, covered in wax in hopes of making the drawing live longer stared at him from it. A smiling face, caught in an unexpected turn, a hand raised to wipe a stray curl it, simple lines making the contours of a body, and a bit settling into the surroundings of a kitchen. Bilbo didn’t know that Thorin draw things other then illustrations for his book. 

He had a small chest filled with drawings similar to this one. Candid sketches of the hobbit that had made his journey back to the Mountains both easier and harder. Just like they had made his life in them both difficult and easy. For after experiencing the life in Bag End with the young hobbit Thorin was beginning to feel conflicted. And now it appeared that his nephews were also charmed by the welcoming face, and had been adopted into the family. 

In the letters they had send to their mother along with coin and small trinkets, Thorin was able to grasp the affection both of them experienced at the hand of the hobbit, and the protectiveness they exhibited on his behalf. 

Fili wrote about the dwarf that had intended to fondle his friend and Thorin growled as he read about the incident. At that moment he was even happier that his nephews had heeded his veiled suggestion, and decided to make Hobbiton their first stop on their way to traveling around. It had gotten them a full bellied winter, warm home, affection and company. And it gave Thorin peace of mind, to know that both his nephews and friend were safe together, away from hunger, pain and dangers of the world.

Come spring he would journey back to Hobbiton, and talk to Bilbo again. It would be good for him, Thorin thought. Maybe he will even bring Dis along. It would be only proper after all. The hobbit already knew the majority of his family, and Thorin knew his, so it was just a reasonable occasion to introduce his sister to his friend. And if she approved of the hobbit, which considering her happy smiles as she read the letters, filled with praise towards their Auntie, she did; well, all the better for Thorin.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 Ladies and Gents, dear readers of all appropriate ages :)  
> You have all enjoyed the omakes, send me a line with a prompt and maybe I’ll fill it too.  
> As it is chapter 13 (bold letters please) I thought I'd make it scary.

   It was morning and the house was quiet. Nothing wrong with quiet on a regular day. A bit of peace and contentment can do wonders for one’s mind. But the quiet of Bag End was not of that kind. 

   When Fili woke up it was to see Kili sitting still on the bed next to him, hands in his lap, playing slightly with the edge of the blanket. Getting up on his elbows Fili asked

   “What’s wrong?”

   It took a moment for the other to respond, but when he did it was in a barely-there voice

   “It’s so quiet… Its never quiet in the mornings, Feel…”

   Fili strained his ears, trying to catch a smudge of noise; voice or other, but it was all for naught.

   “Did you go outside to check?” asked the older dwarf as he stood up from the warm confines of the bed and tugged on his pants, stepping into the soft boots, made for the house only.

   Kili shook his head as he followed his brother’s lead, pulling on a warmer tunic. The house was cold, and, unlike every other morning, there was no smell of breakfast floating around, no herbal aroma to indicate that Bilbo was making more of his medicines. There was nothing, and suddenly the brother’s felt afraid.

   Opening the door, and looking this way or that Fili slowly crept outside, making as little noise as he could. He went all over Bag End, checked the kitchen, and the living room, the guest and spare bedrooms, and even the cupboard. Everything was as they left if last night, but something was still missing.

   “Fili!” an urgent whisper came from the hallway, and the older dwarf answered the call, coming to stand next to his brother. Kili was holding on the doorknob of Bilbo’s room, and he wanted Fili next to him when he went in.

   This would be the first time that either of the dwarfs was in the hobbit’s bedroom, even though their rooms were not far from each other. It’s not as if they were not allowed to go in, but they just never had the need, and never felt right to invade the most private of their Auntie’s dwellings.

   When Kili finally opened the door, it was to the sight of their hobbit sitting in the middle of the bed, legs drawn in close, and hands wrapped around them. Bilbo’s head was bowed down, touching his knees, and the room felt particularly cold.

    Looking over at the window Fili let out a soft curse, as he saw that it was wide open, and a small hill of snow was beginning to gather underneath. Closing it as swiftly as he could, and barely sparing a glance to the darkness outside, Fili turned around and faced the other occupants of the room.

   Kili didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he had gathered the hobbit to him, as he sat behind Bilbo on the bed, and pulled him into his lap. There was no reaction from the other man, and the young dwarf send his brother a desperate look, as if asking him to make everything right.

   Fili didn’t know what to do, but he decided that comfort was a must, especially for a hobbit.

   “I’ll go light up the fireplace; you keep him warm, and comfortable, alright?” said Fili to his brother, pulling a blanket over them both and tucking in the corners. Bilbo looked to have relaxed a bit in Kili’s hold, and was now leaning on him with his whole body, having fisted his hands in the dwarf’s shirt.

   The dwarf could only nod, as his attention was kept by their hobbit, whom he had never seen be anything else but cheerful, or an occasion frustrated. To have him like that: quiet, and frozen, was unnerving, and Kili didn’t know how to deal with it.

   Looking at the two on the bed Fili was suddenly aware of just how young his self-proclaimed Auntie was. Thorin had told them that hobbits matured differently, but even still. Bilbo had barely had his coming of age. He was only 33, and to a dwarf…even to a hobbit, that was not a lot. Right now both Bilbo and Kili looked desperately young, and Fili knew that it was now his turn to take care of them.

   For three months now Bilbo had taken on the role of their guardian; had fed them, clothed, provided support and even got them a job. He had been teaching them about hobbits and their customs, told them stories of their uncle and his silliness that Fili still had trouble believing, and had made sure with his every gesture that the boys felt like they were a part of Bilbo’s family.

   Fili relaxed in those months. He wasn’t responsible for supporting his brother anymore, he didn’t have to scrounge for food for the two of them, and he didn’t have to worry if the place they slept at was safe. No empty stomachs, no idle hands, and a feeling of security settled over him, and now, when Bilbo was clearly not well, it was finally his turn to step up once more and take charge.

   Leaving Kili to take care of the other man, the sandy-haired dwarf walked about the hobbit hole, getting it its usual cheery state. Fire in the fireplace, kettle on the stove, get the food from the pantry and make breakfast. He had observed this routine enough times to know it by heart, and even though he couldn’t cook like Bilbo, the hobbit had more then adequate supplies of food already prepared in the pantry. So really, all he had to do was get it out, and reheat some of the things.

   While Fili was busy trying to get the house into a semblance of coziness it usually possessed, Kili was trying to wrap the hobbit up as close to himself as possible without suffocating him. Bilbo had by then relaxed his hold a bit, and looked to be slightly dozing, as he settled peacefully between Kili’s thighs. The dwarf had his arms around the hobbit, and his chin resting in a nest of curls.

   Kili remembered the few times when he was sick, or feeling unwell, how Fili would come, wrap him in uncle Thorin’s big coat, and then tell him stories about the Erebor, dragons and humans. He would listen and imagine the sort of adventures he would have with his brother at his side. Fili never got sick, so the younger never had to know what to do with an ill person, but he tried to be reassuring. Even though his heart was hammering in his chest with worry, and his eyes never left the empty face of the hobbit on his lap.

   Soon enough the house was filled with warmth and a smell of hearty stew. Slight creaking of the wooden floor was heard as Fili neared the room and stuck his head inside.

   “How is he?” asked the dwarf, as he opened the door and came in with a tray full of bowls and cutlery.

   “I think he fell asleep” answered Kili, as he looked down at Bilbo, who’s eyes were closed and breathing even. His fingers were still clutched in Kili’s shirt and his cheek was firmly pressed against his chest, but his face looked peaceful, and the body was not rigid anymore.

   Just as Fili sat down on the bed, the smells of food seemed to awaken the hobbit as his eyes fluttered open, and his nose twitched. Sitting up slightly, still leaning on Kili, Bilbo brought his legs closer and looked at the brothers.

   “Bilbo!” was heard from both of them as they saw their Auntie wake up. “You’re alright!”

   “Oh finally” let out a sigh Fili as his shoulders sagged in relief “Auntie are you alright? You weren’t moving, the window was open and there was snow on the floor. Why would you open a window in the middle of winter?!”

   Bilbo looked at him and shrugged.

   “ ‘M sorry” he said “It’s just not a good day for me…” finished the hobbit as he let his head rest back on Kili’s shoulder. The dwarf’s arms only squeezed harder in return as he asked.

   “Why? Why’s this not a good day?” Kili was genuinely concerned as he tried to figure out what in the world would be bad enough to resolve their hobbit to such a state.

   “It’s the day my mother was killed” whispered Bilbo halting questions in their wake.

oOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOO

   It started like a normal winter if a bit earlier then usual. Cold came in first, then frost, and finally in a matter of a night the Shire was covered with a blanket of white. Only it didn’t stop snowing, and it didn’t stop getting colder. More and more snow felt, covering up everything in its way. And then very soon news came from Buckland that the river froze. At first everyone delighted and hobbitlings came out to play in the snow as they always did, wrapped in scarves and shawls, mittens on their tiny hands, and hats on their curls. But then one day a child disappeared.

   There was no warning, no word received. A little girl had come outside to feed the chickens in the evening, and did not return. Everyone searched but came up with nothing. But then another fell. And this time there were signs: blood, and cloth left in the middle of the street. And in the snow: paw prints. They were able to distinguish at least 5 different sets, circling around the bloody patch. And everyone got scared.

   Shire had never had wolfs. Not since its very settling, when the holes weren’t dug, and there were still walls around the budding village. There was no one still alive who remembered the last time they have even seen a wolf.

   Starting that night children weren’t let go of at night, and as soon as the sun starts setting, everyone were ushered into the homes and doors, perhaps for the first time ever, were being locked.  As the population of the Shire soon found out it was not enough. Screams and wails awoke everyone in Samford and soon their echoes reached the Red and then White Downs. Hobbiton was not far behind.

   One winter morning little Bilbo woke up to the sound of a hammer. He came to the hall to see his mother barricading the windows with planks of wood and sturdy nails, and his father tugging in their chickens and geese. The birds were loud, and left soil in they path, but Bungo just steered them all into the back room, and closed the door. As he passed by Bilbo he run his hand through the boys hair, and went outside again to shuffle in whatever spare wood was in the shed.

   “Bilbo! Come help.” Said Belladonna as she struggled with a particularly big plank. Bilbo hurried to his mother, holding up one end, while she hammered in the nails, slowly but surely closing the gaps in the open window.

   “What’s going on momma?” asked the little hobbit as he tried to hold the other end of the wood.

   Belladonna gave him a look and shot a glance in the direction of the door. She put down the hammer and kneeled before her little son, putting her hands on his shoulders.

   “Winter is here honey. And this winter is not like the ones before. This winter is cold. And it is ice. And it is death. This winter brought wolves from the marches and moors. And because the rivers froze they were able to get into Shire.” She smoothed her hands over his cheek “We have to stay inside and make sure that no one can get in, do you understand sweetheart? You remember the stories I told you? About the travels and the mountains, and the dangers?”

   Bilbo nodded a yes as he tried to understand all that his mother was telling him.

   “Well its going to be a bit like in these stories of mine. We’ll have to hide, and be really quiet, and if we’re good, if we’re really really lucky…” At this her head snapped towards the door, as she heard the heavy footsteps of her husband. As if nothing happened she took up the hammer and motioned Bilbo at the plank. “You keep holding that up sweetheart, just a moment more”

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

   Fell Winter was hard on everyone in Shire. And one learned to adjust when faced with a life-threatening situation. The rations of food were gone, by orc or wolf, or simple overconsumption. So when one day Bilbo’s mother stumbles into the house with a sack, and goes straight for the kitchen, not forgetting to lock the door, and put a sturdy chest under the knob, Bilbo doesn’t exactly worry. He’s not allowed outside the house at all these days, and stays locked inside, making sure that windows are barricaded, and doors are always covered.

   When delicious smells start coming from the kitchen though, smells Bilbo had almost thought he had forgotten; he is intrigued.  There hadn’t been any fresh food in a very long time now, and no way of getting it either from what he had overheard of his parents conversation.

   So Bilbo slinks into the kitchen and watches as his mother stirs something in the pot, back straight, and arm occasionally stretching to the spice rack to grab this or that. He thinks he sees her adding a lot of herbs that help with tenderizing, and masking the smells, but he’s not too sure.

   He does not ask her what she is cooking though, pays no attention to the bloody sack in the corner, with a bit of hair sticking out of it, and goes back to his book, glancing over the closed and reinforced door on instinct. A few hours later he hears a patterned knock and hurries to the hall to let his father in.

   The older hobbit is tired, covered in layers of clothes, and comes into the hole with sagging shoulders and empty hands. His face is colored with bruises, and his knuckles are bloody, and his eyes are dull.

   Bilbo wordlessly helps him out of his many coats, and closes the door.

   Soon their mother is calling them for dinner, and his father is slowly shuffling over to the kitchen. Bilbo is excited, he hadn’t eaten well in a while, and whatever his mom was making sure smelled delicious. He sits at the table in front of his bowl, swinging his legs a bit and watches as his father glances at his mother with sharp eyes.

   Belladonna looks Bungo straight in the eyes, and pours him a bowl of stew. She does the same for Bilbo, and then herself, putting down the ladle, and sitting at her usual chair.

   They do not talk, and Bilbo digs in with a gusto, for the stew is hot, and full if spices and _meat!_ Oh he hadn’t had meat in so long! He hadn’t really had anything in so long.

   The young hobbit does not notice the trembling of his father’s and the steady gait of his mother’s hands, as they eat their portions. Or rather Bilbo and Belladonna do. Bungo clutches his palm over his mouth and runs to the cleaning room, and the sounds of retching reach the mother and son.

   “Didn’t he like the food?” asked Bilbo as passed his mother his bowl for seconds.

   “I guess your father didn’t appreciate it after all” smiled his mother with a little strange tilt to her mouth.

   Bilbo shrugged his shoulders and dug in once more.

   “Well I think it’s delicious, so thank you momma.”

   He didn’t see his father again that day, and he didn’t see his mother go into the back yard and bury the bones and the fabric of their cousin, who had the misfortune to die alone in his hole while his family was away in Bree. Neither did he know that this night was the first time that his father had slapped his mother as he whispered furiously to her, too confused and bewildered at her deed to understand. And that this was the first time that Belladonna Took put away the customs and acquired traditions of the Baggins family and stood proud in her belief, in her conviction that she had done the right, the _only_ right thing to do at the face of hunger, desolation, starvation, and the possible death of her child.

   “If you cannot provide for this family then I will. And I will do everything. _Everything_. To make sure we survive.

   Next morning his parents aren’t speaking and Belladonna takes Bilbo with her to go outside at the sunniest of times, to get some more wood for the fireplace. They come home laughing, and happy, and for the first time in a long while Bilbo thinks that this winter is not all too bad.

   Then in the evening his mother is called to their neighbor for her labor and Bilbo wakes to strong but shaking hands of his father, who is telling him that Momma isn’t coming home anymore.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

   As Bilbo finishes telling the brother his story Kili has tears streaming down his face, and Fili’s hands are clutched so tight, his palms are bleeding. They look at each other, and Kili budges over, as Fili gets into the bed and curls over both of them.

   They spend the rest of the day like that, curled together in the big warm bed, under the same blanket, telling each other stories and fairy tales. And as the brothers look down at the form between them, suddenly a lot smaller then usual, they vow to everything dear to them that they will never let their hobbit suffer like that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Bungo did not kill his wife, read back a few chapters, she was killed while helping a neighbor give birth


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I am extremely sorry for the long wait, but I have been very sick lately, and have had exams, so not a lot of free time to spare. But! I am back, so updates will be more frequent, especially with the weekend coming closer. 
> 
> There had been concerns from the last chapter about Bungo killing his own wife after she fad him cousin Ferumbras. Well! Don’t worry, that is not what happened, and if you read back a few chapters you will see that she was killed by wolves while helping a neighbor give birth.
> 
> Now that that is out of the way, a few notes on this chapter. It will be split in 2, as it is late, but I just really wanted to get a little bit of it out there, and to you, my loyal readers. So this is part one of chapter 14. Or just a really short chapter 14… But never the less, before the week is over, there will be more, and it will be good! Enjoy the Last Homely Hole :)

Gust continued to blow snow dunes all over Hobbiton and appeared to not be thinking about letting up even slightly. More and more crystals settled over the bare trees, benches and windowpanes of the hobbit holes scattered around the village, settling in to wait for the spring sow to let them leave.

   Bilbo and the brothers had settled into a comfortable routine of work and interaction, evenings devoted to settling in front of the fire, hammering away with their miniscule tools, creating the wonderful trinkets for the Took wedding. It took Fili a bit, but he was finally able to put together a small air-pumped drill, that, when the bellow was pumped, spun the tiny metal contraption fast enough for him to engrave the bone and metal pieces he was working on. Usually Bilbo was the one doing the pumping as he sat in a rocker the brothers dragged in from one of the back rooms, reading a book, or knitting. With the hobbit’s assistance and the clever contraption Fili’s portion of the work was being done a lot quicker than when he was doing it all by hand. Kili’s was still painstakingly slow, but the creations of his labor were gorgeous and deserving of praise.

   While evening were spend with doors locked and windows behind the shatters to ward off the cold and dark, days were occupied with chores and the outside activities. A lot needed to be done, and Bilbo was extremely grateful for the help provided by two dwarves. Before, a lot of things were only possible with the help of his many cousins and neighbors, but now Fili and Kili were the ones helping him move around barrels in the cellar, clear out the snow path in front of Bag End, and generally keep up the hole at the tidy level of clean that the hobbit wanted.

   Ofcourse the cousins and neighbors still dropped by on many a usual occasion, and the Took ones got along with the brothers splendidly.  His cousin Drogo came by a few times and was scared witless by the sight of Kili stumbling into the kitchen, looking for all intents and purposes like a disheveled blob of blankets and hair. He was swiftly reassured of the dwarf’s harmlessness and had a cup of calming tea shoved in his hands.

   As the harshness of winter lessened, the spirits soared and the hobbit nature once more started to rear its head. Fili and Kili had both noticed that the folks of Shire were a bit melancholic during the long winter months, but now that spring was nearer they seemed to be perking up. More and more people were out on the open air. Children began to poke their noses out of Holes and tumble out; swaddled in layers upon layers of cloth, usually leaving only their tiny noses and eyes peaking from under shawls and scarfs that hobbit mothers hefted on them. Not once but many times was either brother brought to their rump by a squealing ball of wool, yarn and curls, as a hobbitling rolled by, quite alike to a tumbleweed, usually followed by a few more of said “balls”, all happily yipping and laughing.

   Kili once tried to catch a little hobbit ball as he was once more rendered earthbound by a pack of them, but was unfortunately unsuccessful in his endeavor, rather ending up being assaulted by a multitude of snowballs, and pelted from behind piles of sleet with well-aimed projectiles, followed by high-pitched warrior cries.

   He came home bewildered and slightly confused, asking Bilbo if all hobbits were taught to be good with long-reached weaponry. At that Bilbo laughed and invited the brothers to visit the Took household in the summer, when plenty of small game was to be found and hobbits practiced their throwing.

   To the hobbit’s surprise, an invitation to that particular establishment had arrived a lot sooner than he had expected.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

   Bilbo sifted through his daily mail, while trying to ease back into the Hole, without taking his eyes off the thick envelopes in his hands. It bore the intricate wax seal of the Took family on the crease that had a weaving of three bronze cords hanging from it, and Bilbo was fairly certain he knew what it meant. Light trepidation filled him, along with unease, as he remembered the talk with his Took cousins about the tradition of the Winter Gathering in Took Hall.

   All young hobbits of Took and other relations were to come in the last month of winter, crowding together in the great hall of Tooks in order to show themselves off, present an image of their grown selves, and, if heart was amiable, court and get courted by those around them. Bilbo was both excited and terrified of the prospect…

   Like every hobbit he had thought about having a family. He loved things that grew and bloomed; all the Shirelings did. But at the same time Bilbo felt that in the last few months the expectations placed on every hobbit out there were beginning to become a burden to him. Especially since the arrival of Fili and Kili, and their quick integration into the hobbit’s life. Bilbo truly felt more at home, and more comfortable then he had in years with the constant chatter and chaos of the brothers to keep him occupied and engaged in multiple activities.

   Kili in particular was adamant about making sure that the hobbit was never left out of their games or discussions. The young dwarf had become protective and constantly followed Bilbo around when the other had ventured outside the Hole. Not that Fili was any better, but had at least tried to keep his protective nature hidden for a while. All pretense of subtlety went out the window at the face of the winter night spend holding the frozen hobbit between their warm bodies, while he told them of the horrors that took away his family and a bit of his humanity.

   Since that night both brothers kept a closer look on him, which annoyed Bilbo greatly, but also made him feel warm, and comfortable. He had not had anyone to truly worry about him for quite a long time now, and the sudden attention and attentiveness while unusual and somewhat unfamiliar, was never the less welcomed by him.

   Now, as Bilbo finally got through the door, and opened his letter, confirming his suspicion on its contents, he did not know exactly how to respond. He had to go. It was simply unheard of not to show up on the Winter Gathering after being invited. And a lot of people showed up without an invitation as well, but if one was received, you went. No excuses. And Bilbo was faced with a dilemma.

   Does he attend and suffer through the embarrassment of clumsy courting rituals, or does he stay home and face the wrath of the head of the Took family for denying the invitation and most likely endanger his “nephews” success with the hobbits? That last bit quickly made up Bilbo’s mind, seeing that just as the brothers were protective of him, Bilbo also constantly kept an eye on them and their doings.

   OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

   Bilbo had to wait until that evening to inform Fili and Kili about his visit to the Tooks later that week, and had prepared a fine dinner in anticipation of the talk. His chicken clove pie was the main attraction and softener, as he rightfully anticipated a firm rebuttal to his news from both dwarves. They rather see him safe and sound behind the Thorin reinforced doors.  And while Bilbo appreciated the concern, he was a grown hobbit, and fought to preserve his right to making his own decisions.

   Rather as he expected Fili came in first, dragging a snow-splattered Kili behind him, dropping their wet cloaks in the hallway and following their noses to the kitchen. The brothers were met with a sight of a spread upon the table, their mugs set next to the plates, and a feast sprawling most of the surface. Kili dug in with an appreciative yelp, but Fili came towards Bilbo with a slow caution in his step. He knew the hobbit well by now, and found out that he was able to easily perceive their weakness to his food. If their Auntie was putting this much effort into tonight’s dinner, something was going on.

   “Auntie.” He said, sitting down at his customary chair next to his brother.

   “Hello Fili, Kili” smiled Bilbo as he bustled about the room, bringing in a pitcher of ale and a tankard or cider. “How was the day? Anything interesting to tell me?”

   Fili glanced towards his brother who was just in the beginning of the process of decimating the chicken clove pie, and temporarily forgot about the question. With a howl he snatched the plate away from Kili’s grabby hands, and clenched his prize close to his chest. Oh no! Not tonight! Auntie Bilbo’s pie was a sacred thing, not allowed within the younger dwarf’s hands if he could help it.

   As the two battled for the pie, Bilbo sat down and looked at them. Oh, he just knew that something would go wrong with the conversation. Finally he had had enough of the squabbling, and wanted to get the talk over with. Its not as if anything too drastic would happen anyways.

   “Fili! Kili!” he said sharply, bringing the two to a halt. “Put the pie down, I made enough for both of you, and Fili!” At that the older leaned slightly back. “Stop taking food from your brother, he’s a growing dwarf, he needs the strength.”

   Fili could only open his eyes wide at that exclamation. “I’m a growing dwarf too! **I** need my strength too! Why does Kili get to be the baby?”

   “Oi!”

   “He’s not a baby, but you are older. Now put down the pie, and settle; I have something to tell you”

   Grumbling still, the dwarves sat down the pie and pulled the chairs closer to the table, looking at Bilbo with expectant eyes. Taking a deep breath he decided that quick was better in this situation.

   “I’ve been invited to the Winter Gathering in Took Hill. It’s for every hobbit that had reached their maturity the past year, and since my birthday was in the fall, I am also in that category. I’ll be going there at the end of the week. It’s going to be a big party, and I might get courted, but don’t worry, I’ll come back in the morning, and everything will be alright!” The speech was blurted out in a single breath, and by the end of it Bilbo was a bit red in the face. Unfortunately for him, he was not as red as the two in front of him.

   Fili and Kili both had turned scarlet, and stayed that way as soon as Bilbo mentioned courting. Oh no. No. Nope. Not happening. Their Auntie was not about to be seduced by some grocer of a hobbit at some “First official time to pat a rump party”! They would not allow it. So in a synchronized way their opinion was made public.

   “ **NO!”**

   “You’re not going! You can’t, and we won’t allow it, won’t we Fee!”

   “You’re right! Auntie, you can’t just tell us something like that! What kind of a gathering is it anyways, if you have to suffer through bellicose hands and wondering eyes? It’s completely improper!” bellowed Fili as he stood up. No one was going to snatch up Bilbo if he could help it.

   The aforementioned hobbit could only sigh as he observed he spectacle in front of him. He just knew that this would happen, and hoped that the food would pacify the two, but it seems that their mutual love for his pie had put a damper on that plan.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finally tells the brothers that he is not a damsel in distress in need of constant protecting.

   Bilbo sighed as he rubbed his hand across his face and closed his eyes, as the brothers continued their loud protests over his attendance. He sat on the chair, listening to the growing voices until he started getting angry. Ever since the night a few weeks back, both dwarves began to hover over him as if he was made of fragile porcelain. They followed him around, never let him out of their sight, and always. At every point of time at least one of them had him in their vicinity. And frankly he was beginning to get real tired of it.

   Slamming his hands on the table halted the one sided conversation rather quickly.

   “I have had enough.” Said Bilbo without raising his eyes. “ I have told you many times that while young, I am the master of this house. I take care of myself, and now of you. We have settled very well together, and for that I am grateful and happy.” He looked at Fili.

   “You hover. You are always near. I know that you worry, I do. I know you had to be the one to look after Kili a lot. I understand that as well. And I know that you see me as someone who needs protection, and coddling, and you look at me as though I am a child. But Fili, I’m not.” At the last sentence he raised his voice and Fili avoided his gaze.

   “Kili” Startled, the younger dwarf hastily looked at their hobbit. “You never let me go to the market by myself, and you scare my guests the first time they come in. You are extremely suspicious of strangers. Kili, last week you chased away my grocer for “looking at me for too long”. At that the boy could only flush, stubbornly refusing to admit he did something wrong.

   Rubbing his hand over the side of his face Bilbo looked at the two across from him, now seated once more.

   “Yes, I’ve had some bad things happen to me. I lost my parents and a lot of me went with them. But I have been getting better; you’re helping me get better, both you and your uncle. And I love you to bits for it, I do, really. I can’t imagine my life without the two of you in it anymore, its just not possible for me, but at the same time… You don’t own me.”

   Bilbo rose from his chair and walked to the two morose dwarves who had hanged their heads and were staring at their laps. He placed a hand on each of their knees and crouched down. Squeezing slightly he drew their attention to his face.

   “But we’re not trying to own you Auntie.” Pleaded Kili as his hand grabbed the hobbit’s. “We just want you to be safe and alright.”

   “We don’t want to lose you.” Continued Fili, doing the same as his brother.

   “You’re not going to lose me! I am a grown hobbit. I know you think I’m young, but remember that we age differently, and by our standards I am fully mature. I can make my own decisions, and meet whatever people I want, and I most certainly can go wherever I want.” Said the hobbit gently, trying to convey his point as strongly as he could.

   “But what if something happens to you?” Cried Fili, distressed.” We’d never forgive ourselves! “

   “Or what if someone snatches you up, and you marry, and then there won’t be a place for us here anymore!” Spoke Kili as his grip on Bilbo’s hand tightened.

    Bilbo could only stare at them.

   “Is this what you’re afraid of? That if I go, and meet someone, they’ll take me away from you? That I won’t love you anymore?” He asked with disbelief.

   They could only nod hesitantly.

   Thoughts filter through Kili’s head, as he imagined Bilbo going off to this party, meeting someone amazing and bringing them back to their home. And then they’d be in love, and Bilbo wouldn’t spend so much time with them. He’d probably be uncomfortable with cooking for them then, because he’d have to cook for his chosen. And he wouldn’t go promenading with them anymore, even if he was the reason they even knew that word. And then his chosen would want to move in, and they wouldn’t have a place in Bag End, because Bilbo would want his own kids, his own kin there. And then where would they go? How would they go about telling their uncle that they couldn’t even stay in one place and be good for him? That they weren’t good enough for Bilbo…

   The darkness of Kili’s mind was lifted when the mentioned hobbit freed his hand from his grip and placed it on the young dwarf’s cheek. Tilting his head a bit up in order to be able to look in his eyes Bilbo made him look back and smiled.

   “Don’t you ever think there would be no place for you in this house.” He stated firmly. “I told your uncle and I’m telling both you this. You will **always** have a home here with me. Even when you get tired of me, or we fight, or I meet someone. You’re mine now. My dwarves. All three of you. And nothing you do can change that.”

   Smiling at them he rose up and leaned against the table, winter sun shining its last slivers through the corners of the drapes, basking him in a red and gold glow.

   “On that note, I really do have to attend that gathering, least we want to become frowned at by the whole Shire, of course.”

   “What do you mean by that? Isn’t it just a party?” Asked Fili as he subtly sniffed up some stray moisture in his nose. Must’ve been all the spices flying around the kitchen, making his smeller itch.

   “Oh no!” Protested Bilbo. “This is a Took gathering. Absolutely everyone invited must come, or face grievous consequences! Most of the time even those who aren’t invited show up anyways. The Winter Gathering is a tradition from a very long time after all. It’s a chance for the whole family to see every new mature hobbit, and for those mentioned to show them off, make sure that they are seen in the most favorable light, presenting an image of maturity and readiness for self-sufficient living.  Now in most cases the parents are still in the picture in order to chaperone, but for those whose’ folks aren’t available, or just can’t make it in time, another relative is usually present anyways. It’s all very proper really from what I heard.” Finished Bilbo with a contemplative look to the side.

   The brothers could only grin as they recognized their chance and, trading glances, seized it as soon as possible.

   “So what you’re saying” started Fili

   “Is that there has to be chaperones with you in order for this party to be all proper and such?” Finished Kili

   “Well I suppose so, yes. But since my parents are not here a Took cousin will be taking their place, the closest one I suppose… Hmm I think it might be Ferumbras Jr…” Though Bilbo of the plump dark haired hobbit. “Not that he likes me much, though I never figured why? ...”

   Sharing a mischievous glance between them, Fili and Kili sprung up and wound their arms around the hobbit’s shoulders, leaning against him so their cheeks were pressed into his.

   “Oh but Auntie dear” said Fili

   “Why have some Took cousin?” continued Kili

   “When you have us!” Finished both dwarves sweeping their free arms to the sides, leaving a bewildered hobbit stumbling over their little speech.

   Thinking it over he agreed that that was a way  for them to attend the party, and for him not to be settled with someone he did not particularly like. Plus old Grammy Took really liked the dwarves and she still had quite a bit of influence in the Took Hill. If she saw that he was indeed alright by himself, no young lad or lass would be pushed towards him with too much persistence. And having these two there might just be beneficial

   “Alright nephews.” Smiled Bilbo “You can come with me to the Winter Gathering. But!” At that he extracted himself from the clingy dwarves and stood in front of them. “You be on your best behavior. There will be no plate throwing, no cutlery battles, no fiddling on old hobbit’s moustaches, no stealing food, and most certainly **no** scaring every single one of the guests in there away from me. I mean that last one! I have to show I can I can interact well with others. Can’t do that with you two growling at everyone from behind my shoulder.  Oh, and Fili?”

   “Yes?”

   **“No. Biting.”**

   “But what if they deser…”

   “No biting!”

   “Oh, alright…”

   “Alright.” Repeated Bilbo as he relaxed a bit and let his hands slide from his hips. “Then sit down and finish your food, the pie won’t eat itself.”

   Needing no further prompting the duo sat down and went about decimating the hobbit’s supply of food, while he joined them at a slightly eased pace, smiling into his tankard as he watched the two argue about what to wear to the Gathering, and who to definitely keep as far away as possible from him.

   No matter what he said, both Fili and Kili still knew he needed their protection from some of the more amorous hobbits at the party. Especially those that have been eyeing their Auntie for the past few weeks when he started going to the market more again. Especially that red haired grocer lad with a smirk that kept his gaze firmly on Bilbo’s behind the few times he came over.  After all. They already had an uncle and had no desire for their Auntie to get another.


	16. Chapter 16

      Alright. This was it. This was his chance. He was of age now. He had the right to court whomever he wanted, right? Right…  He had a business already! Sure it was just a little stall at the market, but it was his, his father let him run it all day long now, not just be a delivery boy anymore. He was a respectable owner! He could provide for his chosen one. Not that the _he_ would need providing for, oh no. Not this one. _He_ had a big homely hole under the biggest hill in Shire. _He_ had storages full of gold and commodities, not like his own shammy rented hole. _He_ had fine clothes and intricate leather belts and jewelry. If he courted _him_ , there would be no more thread bare coats and hole-patched pants. No more saving for months to have enough for a good belt. No more cringing at his last name that no one had heard of before. Nope. If all went well he’d be a Baggins, and living the good life.  An easy living of leisure and comfort. All he had to do was make sure that no one else got the same idea.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

   Shire was buzzing with excitement for the rest of the week as young hobbit lads and lasses went about their friend’s houses talking about the upcoming Winter Gathering at the Took Hill Burrow. Lasses were running to the old matron’s who had greenhouses and were already growing flowers. Snowdrops and lilies of the valley along with dandelions and tulips were making their way into vases and glasses all over the little ladies rooms.

   Lads were more adamant about making sure their buttons were as shiny as their handkerchiefs were starched; trying to walk around with as much dignity as one who barely got off their father’s knee could. Which is to say not a lot.

   Bilbo Baggins was as nervous as other hobbit, only his reasons were different. He wasn’t much concerned with showing himself off as a responsible adult; he’d been doing that for years now, so that wasn’t a problem. Oh no. IT was hammering an emergency course on hobbit formal gathering into two stubborn dwarves who did not want to listen or comprehend, or even try to apply the shakily gained knowledge.

   To the hobbit’s surprise Kili was the one who took to the manners, or at least the pretense of them, with at least a bit of acceptance, while Fili refused to agree to the notion. Oh he was perfectly fine with the idea of being a chaperone for Bilbo, but the fact that he still had to let him communicate with a’courtin’  lads and lasses made him uncomfortable. Kili just secretly wanted to mess with everyone’s mind and lure them into a false sense of security with his upturned pinkies, and wiped feet, and a hanky in his pocket before he unleashed the full dwarven possession on them. So far he was succeeding.

   Already the younger dwarf had received a few propositions for a dance at the Gathering, more then his fair share of pastries and baked goods brought to the door by flustered hobbits, and was not strutting around with his nose in the air.

   Bilbo and Fili just shook their heads as they quietly went over the list of those Bilbo knew was going to be at the party, so as to be at least a bit familiar with the innumerable familial relations. There were the Tooks, the Brandybucks, Proudfoots, Sackvilles, Gamgees, Bracegirdles, and many more. And those were just the cousins!

   Bilbo didn’t even know for sure who would be showing up at the Took Hill come weekend, and was seriously dreading the occasion. Never the less, he took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and went about his day as usual, being possibly just a bit more taunt with the neighbors and the constant stream of “visiting” hobbits, who just so happened to ask if Masters Kili and Fili were attending as well.  In the end the Master of Bag End grew annoyed enough with the repeated question that he hanged a sign on the front gate stating “The dwarves **are** coming to the party. Don’t bother knocking; we’re not in.” and went blissfully undisturbed for the rest of the evening.

   OoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOoO

Bofur’s pretty tired by now. He’d walked a long time and crossed many a miles before coming to the borders of Shire. He heard that they have an abundance of children, and truly, what is a better place for a toymaker then that filled with customers.

   So the cheery dwarf packs his meager belongings, wishes hic cousins well, and sets off in search of a better place to set his shop then the childless dwellings of dwarves. Not that there aren’t any children there, no. But they are so few and far in between, that he is simply unable to sustain a decent living.  So to Shire he goes.

   Bofur heard from the grapevine that the hobbit’s dwelling was a good place to be. He heard they’re friendly, have a very mild climate in the area, no orcs, and plenty of food. Add to the fact the large number of children, and the absence of men to look down upon him, and it sounds pretty perfect.

   And when his warm brown eyes fall on the rolling hills of the hobbit country, Bofur can’t help but think that this would actually be nice.

   He sets his little stall in the market of Hobbiton, as central settlement of the Shire, and one of the most populated ones. Nearby he builds a tiny shack of a place, made over a week of hard work with his hard saved wages, and reinforced against the cold with thick bushels of straw and hay. It’s no hobbit hole, but it is close to the market , and no one bothers him in it too much. There’s one room, no kitchen, the amenities are outside, but it is his, and he’s content for now. A merry fire in the small tingle he bought keeps the place warm at night when he’s covered with a thin blanket and resting near the warmth.

   The stall is full of toys the very next week, and he is informed that his timing is great. A big celebration is coming, and all the hobbits want something or other to give to each other as gifts and trinkets. The dwarf is surprised to see his toys go not only to the children but bought happily by adults for adults as well. He even takes a few commissions for more complicated things, and now his evening are spent busy whittling wood in this shape or that, scales, gears, curls and lace coming from his skilled fingers in matter of hours and sometimes even minutes.  The children are happily squealing outside the stall every morning as he brings out a fresh batch of goods, all clamoring around the table in order to be the first to see the newest wonders that the strange fella brought.

   And so one morning he is not at all surprised to see a group of children crowing his yet closed stall as he strolls out of his little hut with a box filled with goodies. Bofur  smiles at them cheerfully and shakes his head a bit, making his twin braids flap a little at the motion, sending the children into a fit of giggles. That never fails to make them laugh and brings a smile to Bofur’s face early in the morning. He likes the kids, and they like him. If all he has to do is flap his braids a bit, well there’s nothing wrong that he sees in it.

   What does come as a surprise is an adult, if young looking hobbit, standing a tad away from the still giggling group of fuzz balls swaddled in shawls and scarves, also looking at the dwarf, smiling with a big grin. Bofur lets his eyes sweep over the newcomer. He’s never seen him at the market before even though he’d been there for a week, and he’d come to know pretty much every patron by now.

     This hobbit is, like he noticed earlier, young, has a typically hobbit head full of curls, although they are a warm honey color, and laughing brown eyes. He stands with his hands in the pockets of his sturdy red jacket, tops of mittens poking through; brown trousers that end just below the knee and bare feet, just like all the hobbits. There’s a lovely scarf around his neck, very bright yellow, and looking as like the fuzziest scarf that the dwarf ever saw in his life. He is half-expecting it to start chirping.

    Customers are waiting though, and so Bofur comes over to the side of the stall fishing a key out of his coat pocket, and going in. Moments later the wooden boards open up, letting the winter sun shine upon the assortment of wooden delights lining the table of the dwarf’s little business venture, and drawing another wad of laughter and giggles out o the children as they push and shove to get closer.

   The hobbit in the fuzzy scarf stays behind them, taking advantage of his height, for once taller than someone, thinks Bofur. He observes the hobbitlings squeal and talk to each other as small hands reach towards the toys, exchanging some coin with the dwarf as he quickly and skillfully wraps their purchases and keeps a sharp eyes on the few extra adventurous shirelings that try to make off without paying. A sharp rap on the fingers gets those ideas out of their heads for another day, and Bofur carries on with his easy chatter and wrapping.

   Soon enough the group dispenses and the two adults are left pretty much alone, allowing Bofur a moment to finally properly look over his observer. The other comes closer and leans against the stall. Smiling slightly at him their first words are exchanged.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoooOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOOOOOOo

   Bilbo heard quite by chance from the Gamgees, that there was a toymaker in the market. Now usually hobbits made the toys for their children themselves, and they were nice, sure. Dollies and clay tea sets for the girls; little wagons and balls for the boys; slingshots, throwing belts, and belt flags for all of them. But this was someone who specialized in making little ones happy, and Bilbo wanted to see what that man’s things looked like. So he followed through with his idea one less chillier then usual morning, a day before the Winter Gathering.

   He comes to the market and sees a small hoard of kids gathered in front of a closed stall. Taking a guess at their excitement Bilbo decides to wait and see what happens, thinking that children would not be standing at the same place for too long if there was no reward. His guess is confirmed as a few minutes later a person shows up from behind a corner with a box in his hands. To Bilbo’s astonishment he is a dwarf.

   The other has a nice open face, twin braids that merrily stick up from his sides, a hat with upturned furry flaps, and a goatee. He’s dressed rather plainly in a leather long coat, dark breeches and extremely furry boots. He’s also got knitted gloves on, and a tri-colored long scarf winding about his neck. As soon as his eyes land in the kids laughter shines through and he does a strange quick shake with his head, making the braids dance and bounce, sending the little ones a’gigglin. That brings another smile to the dwarf’s already happy face, and Bilbo can’t stop himself from laughing with them.

   Soon the toymaker disappears in the stall and moments later opens it up sending kids tumbling closer. Bilbo sets his gaze on the displayed wares and becomes amazed. He’d never seen such detailed work in toys before. The other truly is a dwarf for his hands are blessed by Aule with the same creativity and artistic sense that the others of his race Bilbo had the pleasure of meeting. Attentiveness to detail, meticulous execution, miniscule parts that turn and shift with presses of a button, or a turn of a hidden leaver: all of these things are something that the hobbit observes in the toymaker’s creations.

   When all the kids leave he comes closer, leans against the stand and introduces himself. The dwarf’s name is Bofur and he is from the northern mountains, here to look for some more prospective work. Bilbo finds out that the other has a brother and a cousin but no children of his own, and that he is somewhat young by dwarf standards.

   Bilbo remembers what Thorin said to him when they first met and volunteers his age first, not noticing a surprised look in his companion’s eyes, and is reciprocated with a grin and a mutter of 120. He smiles in return and the conversation flows on uninterrupted. They are stopped occasionally by a hobbit lad or lass coming in to ask for a trinket or a toy for a child, but ultimately they spend at least an hour just talking. Its been quite some time since Bilbo had an opportunity to have a chat like this with someone new and interesting and he intends to take full advantage of it.

   Somehow the idea to invite his new friend comes in spontaneously and takes root in the hobbit’s head. So he follows his instinct and extends the hand of tea and cakes to the delighted dwarf. Bofur agrees immediately, for he too had enjoyed their talk, and wants to know more about the Shire, Hobbiton, Bilbo and hobbits in general. The Halfling is interesting to talk to, he’s funny and they seem to have a lot of things in common. Not life adventures for Bilbo didn’t seem to have left Shire too much, but the general cheery outlook on life is definitely something they both have.

   So it is with an easy heart that Bilbo waits for Bofur to close the stall, and walks them both back to Bag End, telling Bofur all about the sights and people who lie on their way. Its quite an engaging conversation with the hobbit remembering a few anecdotes about the neighbors and their quirks, Bofur throwing in his opinion or a story every turn or so. Very soon they are climbing the uphill leading to Bilbo’s hole and Bofur begins to see unmistakably dwarven influence in front of him. The iron wrought shapes around the gate, locks of unhobbit make, a bench in front of the door, made with definitely dwarf hands, for it is covered in sharp lines of khazad carvings.

   Turning a questioning look towards Bilbo, Bofur only gets a mischievous grin in return and an open door. Bilbo steps in first, motioning for him to follow and the dwarf obeys coming to a stop at the sight of a young tangar sitting on a chair in the living room, another by the hearth with a spool of copper wire and some bone fragments on his lap. All three stare at each other for a bit before the blond one grins and stands up.

   OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOO

   The brothers did not anticipate the company of another dwarf so soon after leaving the mountains.  And yet when Bilbo comes in and motions to person behind him to come in as well they are at a moment of complicated feelings.

   Fili is glad for the presence of his kind. Being the only dwarf besides Kili in the whole Hobbiton is tiring, and even though Bilbo is amazing and they love him to bits, he’s not a dwarf, and doesn’t know all their customs yet, not that he isn’t slowly learning.  So he smiles at Bofur as he is introduced, exchanges a few greetings in Khuzdul with him, and slams his hand on his shoulder in welcome.

   Kili is suspicious. He thinks that this newcomer stands a bit too close to their Auntie, and smiles a bit too widely at him.  He does keep his hands to himself though, so that saves him a few broken fingers.

   Bofus just smiles, happy to be at a friendly person's presence.

 

  

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Winter Gathering! I take reqs for who should be there people! Place your bets. Not Thorin please, he's still at Ered Luin bemoaning the "underage" hobbit ;)


	17. Chapter 17

The hobbits were filling into the large and abundantly decorated Took Hill, all too happy to leave their piles of presents on any of the many tables sitting by the walls. Those that weren’t holding up boxes, parcels, lockets, and chests, were filled with food and drink of all sort. There was infect enough to feed a small village for a month. For a hobbit gathering however there was just plenty enough for an evening.

Looking around one could see brightly dressed residents of the Shire, representing just about every clan and family there is. Proudfoot, or Proudfeet, nobody was ever sure, LongLeefe, Took, Gamgee, Gamger, Brandybuck, Lillyfoot, Smol, and Longbottom. All are here, and all the while looking for a very particular trio to show their faces. The news that the dwarves of Bag End were showing their faces at the Winter Gathering had spread within a day, and now many lasses and lads were wearing ribbons in colors that those two exotic males were prone to wearing, hoping to entice them towards their presence.

Quite a few also donned the Bagging reds and yellows, with acorns on their spreads, just to catch the eye of the elusive Bachelor of Bag End, one young Bilbo Baggins. A truly coveted prize, due in part to his looks, in part to his age, and rather largely due to his rumored monies and land. Not a single hobbit at Took Hill tonight, save for old Grandmother Took, believed that he was not in fact rich and simply hoarding wealth, especially after being able to house two dwarves of such fine caliber.

Grandmother Took meanwhile, was sitting at the head of the grand table by the fireplace, warming her weary bones as she knitted a scarf, and chuckling at the idiocy of the younger generation. She, of all hobbits, knew best that her grandnephew was not as rich as he was told to be, at least not in possessions. He was however a well of love and adoration, ready to spill that nourishing feeling over to the one he would choose. She saw a trickle already pour down onto the tawny heads of the Tangar brothers, and the way they leaned towards her young relative, all too smitten with his generosity and acceptance. She could only wish that her lovely Bilbo would find a person worthy of his. Tonight or otherwise.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Bilbo Baggins was in the middle of a small crisis. Not even because of himself, but rather, as always lately, because of the two dwarven dunderheads that made it their priority to make sure he was truly prepared for tonight’s gathering. They had inspected every darn stitch on his clothes, every button, every cufflink and silk scarf. Made absolutely sure that no more skin was shown then absolutely necessary, even making Bilbo lengthen his pants by a whole inch to show less of his legs. They frowned at the finely combed feet hair, and the trimmed nails. They scowled at his fine white vest with golden oak leaves on it, and the dark yellow shirt underneath that had intricate embroidery along the cuffs and collar. Fili damn near had a coronary at the fit of his fine red corduroy trousers that hugged him all too well in the dwarf’s opinion; Kili having almost thrown a fit over the waist-synched jacket that went over the whole ensemble, being too garishly maroon in his eyes.

  
Never the less, both had made sure that every darn acorn adorned button was shined to perfection, the cufflinks pearlescent in the shine of the candles, and the small beads were woven tightly into hidden braids of Bilbo’s hair. Upon the insistence of his houseguests and the occasional input from Bofur, Bilbo had given in and let his curls grow out a bit more then what was usual, letting then touch his shoulders just a bit, and spilling right over them when wet and heavy with moisture.

He sat patiently in front of Fili’s chair, letting the nimble fingers, so used to tiny precise work, weave his strands into something that was apparently marking him as affiliated with the Durin family and showed that he was under their protection and supervision, while also marking his status as the senior one in their trio of the tonight’s attendees. When Bilbo asked how a few hairs were able to show all that and how his hobbit brethren were to know all of it if even he, who spend most of his time with dwarves had no idea about it, Kili shrugged from his place on the other couch and said that it was the thought that counted. And that they would know. They of course being the brothers Durin.  


By the time Fili was satisfied with his work, the Winter Gathering was already in full swing, and the three were late, thankfully within the allotted three hours of being politely late, and not the three and a half late where the guest could take it as a thinly unveiled insult.

  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

The Herald hobbit blew his horn, made out of a mountain goat’s horn that had been met when the clans were still traveling apparently, marking the arrival of new guests, and making everyone’s face turn towards the wide double doors. They opened revealing the long-awaited Baggins and Co, all of them in matching colors, adjusted to wearer’s like. Bilbo with his dark ochre shirt, white and gold vest, red trousers and maroon waist coat. Fili in an ensemble of a maroon tunic and dark ochre trousers, with brown leather boots that were especially made for the occasion, coupled with a white belt. And, finally, Kili, in a white shirt with ochre trousers and a red belt, wearing the same cut boots as his brother.  


The dwarves had forgone their usual green and blues tonight to better show their association with Bilbo and he was secretly very pleased with their decision. Having been rather frightened to attend without any familial support. Never you mind that the whole Took Hill were his relatives and there were plenty of Baggins-affiliated families around as well.

“Bilbo! My lovely boy, I’m so glad you made it!” came the voice from Took Senior, as he rolled by his grandchild, drawing him in for a warm hug and awashing all three in smell of fine mead that wafted off of his breath. The mentioned grandchild didn’t mind though, all too used to that odor lingering around his grandfather and answered the hug with one of his own, not being nearly as successful with spanning his hands around the hobbit’s middle as he was.  


“Grandfather! You are not being too polite, noticing only my own arrival and ignoring two other dear guests to this fine gathering” scolded the younger one gently as he maneuvered himself to show his elder the two brother smiling at him from behind them.

“Ah! My clumsy old mind had had too much of the delicious mead that your uncle Borrister brewed for the occasion and made me overlook such fine Bagginses! Welcome, welcome! From all the Took in the Hill and the Shire in general, welcome you to the Winter Gathering. May you grasp plenty of ribbons tonight!” jovially said the hobbit as he clapped Fili and Kili on the shoulders, and then rolled away, having successfully planted the tone for the evening’s behavior by calling the two “outsiders” a hobbit clan’s name.  


The old politician had not held his semi-elected post for so long without knowing how to turn the situation to a needed angle. And his grandson’s happiness was definitely it tonight. Especially with his mother breathing down his neck to make sure that nobody untoward bothered her favorite offspring. By calling the Tangars “Baggins” he had placed them with Bilbo, and rightfully allowed them to chaperone him, and be witness to anything and anyone’s attempts at courting, while also giving them rights as witnesses that would not be dismissed by saying that they were outsiders.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Many a hobbit, especially young ones, grit their teeth at that, having picked up easily at the clue, and trashing their plans at drawing the young Baggins into a dance and steal. Everyone realized that the two at his side would not be leaving now and their attempt would most likely be thwarted by a harsh Tangarian fist to the head, of a kick with an iron-clad foot.

They had all had no idea however that all of their musings were completely unknown to the two in question, as Fili and Kili had simply taken Old Took’s greeting in face value and gave it no further thought. Thye were already planning on not leaving Bilbo’s side tonight, much to his relief.

Bilbo, having picked up on the dig, had gaped for a moment before a large grin shone over his face. He send a bow to his Great-Grandmother, receiving a wink in return, and turned to his newly named relatives, gesturing them closer.

“Go on then, eat and drink, it will be a long night filled with fun and dancing” he told them, somber mood lifted off his shoulders at the new protection and assurance that no hobbit would attempt to draw him in with no consent, and that the other lads and lasses would be a bit more weary to approach the dwarves as they were now under Baggins clan’s rule and detail. Their attempts at dressing in Fili and Kili’s colors being for naught as they were all wearing Baggins red and yellow anyways. The fine mesh of acorn and oakleaf embroidery at all three’s collars and belts having insured their clear affiliations.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

More then a few hours into the Gathering Bilbo had to admit to himself that he was having… a good time. Fun if he was honest with himself. Now that he was no longer under the thread of being snatched up and his ribbon being taken away without his knowledge, the hobbit let himself relax and enjoy the festivities. He dances with a few older matrons who still remembered his father and mother’s Winter Gathering. He drunk with hobbits who just wanted to drink and eat. Talked and laughed with those he knew personally and a bit closer and avoided all those that glared at his two shadows.

Fili and Kili were everpresent at Bilbo’s side, never straying too far away even if he was dancing or playing with others. They were never too obvious about it, not stepping into his bubble of personal space, but also never going so far as to lose him from their combined sight. They danced when he did, drunk when he did, and ate nearby.  


Both Tangars were all too popular with the young hobbits, some of them still attempting to peruse a dance or a conversation, even though they were not prepared to take on a Baggins this fine night. But both dwarves were unwaveringly polite, laughing, fun and also completely unavailable.

They had been warned beforehand to keep their ribbons close and to not let anyone take them, Bilbo informing them that if such a thing happened they would have been honour-bound to spend the next day with person who had it, in an attempt to get to know them better for purposes of beginning a court. As neither of them were interested at such things at this point, both had tied their silky accessories to their necks and left it at that, looking for all intents and purposes as if they had flags wrapped around their throats.

Bilbo’s red and yellow silks were rather simply tied to his braids, a feat that Fili had insisted signified that he had other interests for tonight, especially considering nobody would be able to pull them out without also clearing a clump of hair from his curly head. The Baggins was insanely pleased with that idea and wondered why other hobbits who had not wanted to peruse a suit had not thought about that decades ago.  


So, he flaunted through the crowds, red and yellow silk flitting over the unseen breeze as he danced, talked, and laughed, never noticing mad eyes that trailed him and the failed opportunity he represented. The overeager hobbit form the market had been thwarted twice already. When that blubbering old Took decided to name the dwarf scum Bagginses and when he noticed that there would be no way for him to pull out Bilbo’s ribbons even if they were not present.

  
When then night had drawn to a close, and some of the weaker or drunker guests had been distributed to their bedroom for the night, he had decided that at the very least he would attempt to get a tug at the young Baggins. Powered by the mead in his system and the burning anger at the dwarves in his heart, the hobbit grabbed a knife from the nearby table and unsteadily made his way towards Bilbo.  
Luck be it, or misfortune, but that was the moment both Tangarians had turned away from their post, leaning down to get a look at the baby hobbit in her mother’s arms who had been brought along for lack of an available hobbitsitter. Bilbo had been cooing at the infant as well, letting her play with his fingers when he felt a harsh tug at his head and with a scream toppled back.  
When he had raised his eyes to look at what had caused him to fall down, dread settling in his stomach as a suspicion grew, he connected eyes with the drunk gaze of a neatly if cheaply dressed hobbit, who stood unstably on his feet behind him, knife in one hand and a bottom of his braid in the other.

 

  
The red and yellow ribbons listlessly hanged from the cut hair.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive and I'm back into the Hobbit swing

The startled shout had silenced the entire hall and drew the attention of all in attendance. When the reason for the commotion was spotted… The only sounds that continued to echo through the airy wooden space were stifled gasps of younger lasses and the gritting of teeth. Within seconds two Bounders hopped over to the drunken offender and clasped his arms in theirs, forcing the yelping man to drop his loot and weapon. Those were immediately picked up by the nearest Took and clutched close, all eyes following the criminal.

Old Took heavily stepped in front of the babbling Hobbit and stared him down. With a resounding smack, the drunk’s head whirled to the side, his cheek reddening from the contact with a withered but still heavy hand.  
  
“Willem Bog. You dare to show such filthy behavior at the Took Hill. At my house. In time of Winter Gathering, a time of joy, cheer, and laughter. You dare to assault my grandson.” rumbled the hardy Hobbit, looking remarkably as he did in his youth when the position of Took Head was a post that was only taken by the fastest and strongest of all Tooks who have served as Bounders. A formidable Hobbit, who had in his prime caught many a trespasser and slaver that dared to make an attempt on the Shire’s rolling hills and valleys. Age may have taken its toll on him, and decades have passed since he last ventured out on patrol, but the strength of those paws and the harshness of the words, was still as strong and threatening as it was back in his prime.

Bilbo’s eyes stuck to the figure of his grandfather, shock and astonishment making him press against the figure of the dark haired dwarf that stood at his side, clutching Baggins to himself. Kili was the first to turn around as his just happened to look at Bilbo when he fell, scrambling to right his friend. When he saw the hair, red ribbon listlessly thrown on the ground amongst the curled up strands, the Tangar cursed filthily and pulled the Hobbit closer. That move jerked Fili into action as well, and the blond positioned himself between his Bilbo and the newly named Bog.

Meanwhile Old Took, never truly a violent man, smacked the drunk again, now onto the other cheek, making his figure sag in the Bounders’ hands and start sniffling and wailing, demanding to be let go.

“Shut your filthy mouth, you disgraceful being!” roared the older Hobbit, eyes blazing with fury.

“You have lost the privilege and honor of opening it when the mere thought or touching Bilbo crossed your mind! How could you allow yourself to even venture into thinking that cutting off a ribbon and his hair will make you be considered, or even looked at by him! Disgrace! Shame! Repulsion on you!” continued Old Took, as he spit at the other.

“Away with him, and into the cellars, with no food or water. In the morning when he is coherent a trial will be held. Never in my life has there been a filthy assault like that!” proclaimed the man, as he jerked his fist towards the exit, watching with a glare as the slobbering and sniffling Hobbit was dragged away by stony faced Bounders.

As soon as the figures disappeared from view, a myriad of shouts and a cacophony of talks fell over the hall, every Hobbit talking to the one next to them about the unprecedented happenings.

The old man turned away from the crowd and placed his undivided attention at the suddenly smaller form of his favorite grandchild. With a frown, the Hobbit reached out, sharing a glance with the blond dwarf and tugged the younger one into an embrace, letting Bilbo clutch at the enormous elder.

“Oh Yavanna! Why would he… how could he... I don’t understand!” cried out Bilbo, as he struggled to comprehend the situation. Never in the Hobbitish history had anyone done such a thing. The ribbons were taken in good faith, with a sense of fun and love, or at least an intent of courtship. As a chance to get to know someone who might otherwise not be aware of them. Never in cruelty and force! IT was just not done. It wasn’t proper!

For who could expect a loving relationship to come from violence?

Even after the Fell Winter, the only year when the Winter Gathering was not held, was there no such behavior. The hobbits wanted peace, and to replenish their lost numbers. Not to see pain and cruelty.

“Shush, Bilbo” calmed him Old Took, placing his large knobby palm over the fair curls.

“He is a fool and a cruel idiot who will pay for what he has done. No obligation falls on you to attend the court, or to do anything but return to your home and feel safe. The Hobbit will be dealt with” promised he, looking at his grandson.

Letting his gaze follow up and over Bilbo, Old Took stared down the two dwarves who stood poised and tense by his side, arms resting all too suspiciously on their wide belts.

“I do not blame you two for not stopping it fast enough. Nobody could have ever thought to even imagine such behavior will take place, it is unheard of after all. But I wish for you to look after my Bilbo in the next few days. Do not let him ponder too much over the happenings” insisted the Master of the house, his usually jolly eyes once again glinting with a hard sheen.

Fili took a step forward and bowed his head in a fast nod, reaching over to gently pull his self-proclaimed relative into an embrace.

“We will, Master Took. Bilbo will be safe” swore the dwarf, Kili nodding frantically alongside his brother.

Drilling the pair for a bit longer with his stare, Old Took smiled and then walked away, leaving the stunned trio to their own devices. None dared to approach to ask for an opinion or a talk, too busy or respectful to bother the shaken Baggins at the moment. Especially since the dwarven brothers were hovering over him in a protective stance, glaring daggers at all that even ventured into the vicinity.

“I think… I think I would like to go home now” softly proclaimed Bilbo as he stared at the door where Willem Bog had been taken through.

“You sure Bilbo? We may stay and dance and eat some more if you want?” asked Kili, placing his hand over the hobbit’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“I am. I do not want to be in here right now” muttered the other, as he looked at the Tangar.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Very soon, within the next day truly, the entirety of Hobbiton was buzzing with news of the Winter Gathering’s unprecedented happening. Rumors were ablaze, and tongues haven’t wagged that fast since Belladona Took decided to marry Bungo Baggins in Bree instead of having the ceremony in the Shire like a proper lass.

The universal opinion, even of the Sackville-Baggins family, was that Bilbo was in no way responsible and that that Willam Bog was always up to no good, staring at the fair hobbit lustfully, and trying to get close to respectable hobbit lads and lasses. He had poor breeding, his store sold defected products, and he was always shifty, etcetera etcetera. Within a week, the Bog family was forced to move out of the Rushock Bog in the Shire and out into the Marish closer to the Bree borders really.4

They were shamed by the behavior of their son and chose to not remain in the area in which their reputation was forever tarnished.

The trial came and went, and Willam Bog was sentenced out of the Shire, to not be let closer into the borders then Stock and South Farthing. He was prohibited from attending any other Winter or Summer Gatherings for the next quarter of a century, and the rumors around the scandal ensured that the Hobbit would not be getting any invitations for tea anytime soon, or within the next decade or so.

Bilbo paid it no mind as he fretted around the burrow, eager to forget the event even happened. Truly the only thing that reminded him of it was the clump of short hair on the back of his head, and the way that the Tangar brothers hovered too close for the next few days. They were always near, always underfoot, and in the end it was the cuddling and protectiveness that caused the fiery Hobbit to blow up at them, demanding they stop treating him like fine china and go back to being their usual rambunctious selves.

“I will not suddenly be attacked in my house!” seethed the young Hobbit, as he paced in front of the chastised duo that had attempted to place watch over his bedroom door, causing the poor hobbit to trip over Kili, who was asleep of all things, on his way to the kitchen to get a midnight snack.

“I am not a fragile little thing that needs protection, and what happened was a freak and strange action, that will not have any more power over my life than the one I let it have. Which is none. Really, a watch over my door of all things!” huffed Bilbo as he stared at Kili and Fili who were suddenly very interested in their socked feet.

“But Bilbo, we just want to protect you” weakly protested one of the dwarves, as he dared to raise his eyes at the seething being.

“Then do so by being productive, completing your commissions, and not making me fall in the middle of the night by way of stumbling over a snoring dwarf under my door!” insisted the other, as he poked both dwarves in the chests.

Sighing, Bilbo took a seat next to the brothers and drew them into a hug,

“I am fine. He scared me, it was unexpected, and I didn’t know what was happening, but in the end I am alright, if a few locks shorter. Truly, it is not so bad. I do not want you, or Bofur to worry, understood?” pleaded the hobbit, as he threw a desperate glance at what seemed like the only sensible dwarf in his life, the toymaker with twin braids who stood hovering in the doorway a bit awkwardly.

“Hoo no. You leave me out of it lad. I jus’ want you safe as well. But if you say you do not wish for us to fret then we shall not. No need to heavy your heart with dark thought of what may have been or may have happened after all.” Smiled the dwarf in question, and walked over to the trio, giving his kinsmen a pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Bofur. At least one of you has sense.” Sighed Bilbo as he released the two and thumped his small hand over the toy maker’s in thanks.

Looking back at the brothers, the Hobbit thought and kissed his teeth.

“Would it make you feel better to know that I knew how to protect myself?” he asked a bit hesitantly, not really sure of the answer he wanted to hear

The question startled the Durins as they traded glances and pondered his idea.

“It would I think” finally relented Fili, as he thought about his countless knives that have already found a home in every room of the burrow.

“Yeah, we can teach you how to fight, or better yet how not to, and how to call us really efficiently!” bounced Kili on his seat, excited to keep his Aunty away from any and all danger until his Uncle returned.

“I think I can whittle a good practice axe or sword out of some wood if you want me to” added his own two cents Bofur, as he already started to contemplate the idea.

With widening eyes Bilbo waved his hands in front of the three, stopping their thought process before it led them too far.

“No, no, no, no, no! I meant to say, that is… I already do know how to protect myself. Would you feel better if you knew about that?” cleared the misunderstanding Bilbo.

“Say what?” came the tree voices.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cliff hanger. How does Bilbo know to protect himself? What is his weapon of choice, axe or sword? Or is it a rolling pin? Give your ideas and suggestions please! The most voted on choice will be written into the story!


End file.
